Two Faces
by everlasting-luv
Summary: Ever since Stan told his friends about his abuse with Shelly, he's been holding in all of his emotions. Stan has been diagnosed with chronic depression and is afraid of showing anyone his true side and afraid of telling people about his abuse at home. Stan's will to live began to dwindle, until a stoic, poker-faced teenager saved his life. (CraigxStan) (Some K2) Ongoing on Wattpad
1. Prologue: Stan Marsh

**WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING! *READ THIS BEFORE YOU READ THE STORY***

 **This story is very angsty and sad, and digs in deeper to Stan's abusive relationship with his sister. If you are a soft heart, DO NOT READ THIS. It's also going to be a yaoi story, and if you don't like yaoi DO NOT READ THIS. This story contains sensitive material, such as abuse, chronic depression, [and later on] thoughts of suicide, and self-mutilation.**

 **Again, if you are a soft heart and/or easily offended, press the back space. Otherwise, you have no right to flame me.**

 _ **YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.**_

 **xXx**

He thought life would be simple. He grew up thinking it won't always be like this. Someone will see a problem and rescue him. Someone out there will hear his cries for help and save him.

He was wrong. No one cared. No one listened.

He remembers all of it clear as day. He remembers the beatings. He remembers the shards of glass that penetrated his skin. He remembers the feeling of his heart pounding so hard against his chest it hurt. The feeling of being thrown down the stairs repeatedly is ongoing. The feeling of bones breaking was still alive.

He remembers all of it. And because the abuser is his own sister, no one payed any mind. But the memory that shocks him more than the beatings and shards of glass goes way back to when he was only eight years old.

Stan had gone to the bus stop one morning with a black eye, and thought to himself he would tell his friends about his life at home.

When asked about his black eye, Stan came clean and told them about Shelly and how much she hurt and scared him. He expected Cartman to laugh about it and Kyle and Kenny to comfort him.

No.

They _all_ laughed at him. They called him a pussy. They told him to "be a man".

Kyle, the person he trusted more than anyone else in the whole world, the person he thought he could tell anything to, mocked his misery.

When Stan begged Kyle and Kenny to stay with him at his house for a while, all he received were more laughs. The shock was too much for him to take. He couldn't tell. He gave up on help.

That's when he took a sharp left turn.

Before, he had hope. Hope that someone will listen to him. Hope that someone will help him. All he wanted was to be comforted. All he wanted was to be loved.

He can't trust anyone anymore. He hates Shelly. He hates his mother and father. He hates everyone.

By the time of his tenth birthday, he came to hate _life_.

He will never open up to Kyle or anyone else again. No. He can't take the shock of being laughed at.

He won't be laughed at.

He will hold in all of his emotions.

He will lie to them.

He will become selfish.

He will hide his feelings.

He will hide the truth that goes on behind those closed doors.

He will have two faces.

 _I won't be laughed at._

 **xXx**

 **I hope you enjoyed this! This is an ongoing series on , so if this gets enough attention here I'll continue you it here too.**

 **If you want to read a head and get the newest chapters earlier than those on , you can go here - myworks/42006902-two-faces If the link doesn't work, try searching my username and/or story title. Two Faces/everlasting-luv.**

 **It would help if you could review! That way I know if people are reading it or not.**

 **See ya!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	2. His Addiction

On the outside, he looks to have a happy life. He has girls flirting with him and hanging off of his arm. He's the star quarter back of his high school's football team and an impressive athlete. He has friends around him. He gets good grades. His parents have money. Yeah, things _look_ great, but looks deceive.

In reality...

He hates sports. He can't stand the sweat and being tackled. He hates getting hurt in the name of victory. But his father loves his reputation as the dad with a football "super star" for a son. He can't bring himself to tell his dad he hates it. He'll keep pretending.

He also doesn't trust his friends, and he certainly knows better than to trust _anyone_ that may call themselves his friends. No, he's not that fucking stupid.

Sure, his parents have money and he gets good grades in school and everybody loves him, but there's one thing he cannot tell anyone.

He's gay.

Ever since his friends laughed at him when he told them about his abuse, he developed a phobia of feeling humiliated and being laughed at. It shocked him to his core.

He has to be perfect. He can't have anything wrong with him. He keeps all of his imperfections and flaws hidden. He started to become selfish, cynical, and most of all, lost any amount dignity he had left.

Stan Marsh has two faces.

The first face is what everyone sees. He puts on the best fake smile he can muster, laughs at dumb jokes, flirts with girls; etc. He plays sports to the best of his ability, despite having a bad back. Ever since his sister, Shelly, broke his back, he has trouble with all the little things such as bending over for too long or picking up large and heavy objects.

He's a good liar anyways, right? He'll lie about his pain too. He plays through the pain.

Well, almost.

"Tch...fuck." Stan uttered, with tears streaming down his cheeks as he drags the razor blade down his thighs. Yeah...this is his _true_ face. This is the face that Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman don't know about. This is the face that shows all of his true pain and suffering.

Those words stung his memory. The words he hears nearly every day by someone he's supposed to call his big sister.

 _You're pathetic._

 _You're nobody._

 _You're going nowhere in life._

 _Everyone hates you._

 _You're better off dead._

 _My life would be easier if you weren't in it._

Stan can't ever forget those words that were burnt into him. He has no proper way of venting and getting his feelings out, so he chose this.

Cutting. It's his addiction. It numbs his pain, even if it's for a little while. If he can't talk to anybody, he'll take the pain out on himself.

Stan sighed and looked down at his scarred legs. He doesn't want people seeing his cuts, so he cuts his legs instead since it's easier to hide. He has cut his arms a few times, but his mom noticed.

His parents know more than everyone on the outside do. Not because he told them, but because of those cuts on his arms. His mom nearly had a panic attack when she noticed those cuts and rushed him to the hospital. That's when he was diagnosed with chronic depression.

His dad doesn't think there's a problem and insisted his son doesn't take the medication, as it might damage his football performance.

 _I fucking hate football._ He said in his mind. He stood up and wobbled a bit before he grabbed an old hand towel from his hamper. He dabbed the towel on his thighs to pick up most of the blood and pressed it there before he threw the towel in his hamper again. He bent down, wincing at the slight pain that shot up his back due to sitting on the floor for too long, and pulled on his old black and green sweats he got from football back in middle school. He grabbed his old brown over-sized cardigan on his chair and wrapped himself in it before he sat down on his chair. He rubbed at his lower back where the pain was emanating from before he sat back and stared at his computer screen.

His sister has done a lot of horrible things to him in the past, but the one thing that she did that affected him physically for life his break his back.

Shelly always pushed Stan down the stairs. Every time Stan thinks it's safe to go down, he gets pushed. The last time she pushed him down any staircase was the basement stairs.

Stan was horrified of basements when he was younger, so he never wanted to go down alone. His mom had asked Stan to get some cans from the basement, and as Stan hesitated at the top of those steps to go down, he felt a pair of hands press against his back and forcefully pushed him.

The impact broke his spine in several places and he was in the hospital for a whole month. The trauma was so severe, he refuses to walk down a stair case first. He makes sure that everyone has gone first before he descends down them.

Stan scowled at the memory and pulled his knees up to his chest, wincing at the slight pain in his thighs where his cuts were.

His phone lit up just then, and he raised an eye brown. He picked up his phone to look at who had messaged him.

 _Hey dude. You wanna hang out for a bit? Kenny is feeling upset again and I think we should do something to cheer him up. -_ _ **Kyle**_

Stan stared at his phone with a frown. What could be wrong with Kenny this time? It's one of two things.

A. His parents are fighting, or B. He's threatening suicide again.

 _What's wrong with him? -_ _ **Stan**_

Stan dangled his phone in his hand, resting his head on his knees picking at a piece of string that was protruding through the seam of his sweat pants. He jumped a little when he felt his phone vibrate in his hands.

He unlocked the screen and began reading the message.

 _He's talking about suicide again. -_ _ **Kyle**_

"Tch..." Stan scowled and glared at his message. He knew it. He didn't understand how and why Kenny would do that to his friends. Why would he openly say 'yeah I'm suicidal and want to die'? Why would he want his friends to worry about something like that?

Stan is suicidal too, but he'd never ever _ever_ put that on him and Kyle. He's thought about ending his life for 5 years now, and he always resented Kenny's attitude towards this particular topic.

 _At least Kenny can go to his friends for help._ Stan squeezed his eyes shut and went through the scenario in his head. For someone like Stan if he were to come out about suicide, he'd hear this remark a lot.

 _"There are people who have it a lot worse than you."_ And that's how it ends. At least, that's that he thinks. It doesn't matter. He doesn't want to take that chance.

 _Okay. I'll be over in a minute then. Your house or his? -_ _ **Stan**_

 _My house. Craig is coming over too, so don't start fighting with him. -_ _ **Kyle**_

"Craig?" Stan mumbled to himself. What the fuck? He knows Craig and Kenny sorta have a thing, but he didn't expect Craig to actually go to Kyle's house.

Then again, he hasn't spoken to Craig since about the seventh grade when they sat next to each other in History.

 _Why the fuck would I fight with him? I haven't spoken to him in 5 years. Whatever, I'll be there in 10. -_ _ **Stan**_

Stan set down his phone, and changed into his semi-too big skinny jeans. He doesn't normally wear outside around his friends since he has a jock image to uphold, but he didn't care. He didn't even bother to take off his cardigan to put on his letterman. He hated that fucking ugly thing anyways.

He slipped on his converse and grabbed his car keys and wallet before he entered the hallway. He softly shut the door behind him and looked around for Shelly.

He stepped quietly down the hall before he panicked and noticed his sister's bedroom door was open. He had to walk past her without her seeing him.

He tiptoed quietly to her door and peeked in when he noticed she was sitting at her desk on her laptop with headphones in. He could hear the sound of metal music blaring. Her style changed a lot too. She's a huge delinquent and gets into a lot of trouble. Not only that, but her hair is cut in a weird emo style and she had died her hair black with red streaks. The side of her head is also shaved so she looks even more intimidating. The dark clothes and chains only add on to that scary vibe she has.

Once he stepped passed her room, he booked it down the stairs before she could somehow push down the stairs. Once he hit the front door, he jumped at the sound of his mom's voice.

"Oh Stanley, honey! I washed your hat, do you want it before you go out?" Sharron asked, holding up his signature blue hat with the red poof ball. The ball at the top had worn down a lot and now just lays flat against the top of his head when he does decide to wear it.

Stan gave his mom a small smile and shook his head.

"No thanks, Mom. Thank you for washing it though. I'm heading to Kyle's and I'll be home late! Loveyoubye!" He rushed the last part before shutting the front door behind him. He didn't want to stay there too long for Shelly to catch up to him.

He walked passed his sisters' motorcycle and made sure to keep his distance. Once she beat him for 'scratching it up' when he didn't have anything to do with it. Now he stays as far away from the fucking thing as possible.

He got to his car, and his face dropped. His sister spray painted the word 'FAG' across his windshield. He ran up to his car and dragged his finger across the paint. Some of it came off, but there was still residue from the paint. He would have to thoroughly wash the windshield in order to take it all off.

"God fucking dammit! Fucking why?!" Stan groaned and slammed his fist against the hood of his black Honda. He eventually stood up straight again and shot an angry text to Kyle before he put his keys in his pockets and descended down the street towards Kyle's house.

 _Hey I'm having car troubles so I have to walk there. I'll be there in about 20 minutes. -_ _ **Stan**_

It's not that big a deal if Stan walks. It was a nice evening and he needed the air. He walked passed a group of teens possibly younger than him laughing and smiling. Stan sighed.

 _That must be nice._

He finally made it in front of the Broflovski's home and noticed a car he hadn't noticed before.

"Must be Craig's." Stan said to himself, before he walked up the driveway and to the front door. He knocked on the door, and Ike answered the door.

He's gotten a lot older now, and is now in the seventh grade and is 13 years old. He's a tall kid too, almost about as tall as Stan who is 5'4. He has short black hair and big brown eyes. He looks a lot younger than he really is since his thing at the moment is Superman. He's always wearing something Superman or Marvel related.

"Kyle! Stan is here!" Ike shouted towards the staircase. Not long after, Kyle's voice could be heard from upstairs.

"Okay, Ike! Just let him in!" With that, Ike stepped aside, and shut the door after Stan had entered. he walked up the stair case and carefully opened up the door. Once he opened it all the way, Kenny and Kyle were sitting on the floor, and Craig was sitting backwards in the computer chair with the back of the chair against his chest and his chin resting on his arms. He looked up at him with that same blank poker face he always wears.

"Hey, dude. I'm glad you're here." Kyle said, and patted the carpeted floor, motioning for him to sit next to him. He smiled a little and sat down next to him. Craig chuckled.

"What?" he snapped. Craig shrugged.

"I've never seen you in skinny jeans and converse, Marsh. You changing your style all of a sudden?" He stated. Stan glared at him and rolled his eyes. Before he could make a comeback, Kyle intervened.

"Stop it, Craig. That's not what's important right now." He said, and all of them turned their heads towards Kenny, who's eyes were averted to the floor.

He doesn't wear his parka anymore, but he wears and orange hoodie with ripped blue jeans and old converse. Things have gotten a little better for him since he started working at Papa John's part time, but he still wears old tattered clothing.

Kyle sighed and put his hand on Kenny's shoulder.

"So do you wanna talk? Why are you suddenly talking about suicide?" he said with a gentle tone. Kenny shrugged.

"I don't know, I just...it's hard."

"What's hard?" Craig asked. Kenny shook his head.

"Everything. I'm struggling to help my family put food on the table. I want to help as much as I can but I don't know how much I can help." Kyle gave Kenny a small smile.

"You're trying, Kenny. And they're very lucky to have a son who is willing to help and spend his money on the necessities that they need, like food." Kenny shut his eyes tight and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"It's harder to for you guys to know what I'm feeling. You don't know what it's like to feel alone. You don't know what it's like to have nothing and to feel like you have no one. You don't know what it's like to try and try and try and never be good enough." At this point Stan was becoming irritated. He _does_ know what that's like. If anything, he understands better than anyone else does.

"So you're willing to end your life, just like that?" Stan stated, staring at the floor still. The room grew quiet.

"What?" Kenny said. Stan looked up at him with an irritated look.

"You're telling us it's hard for you to help you're family, and you want to help them as much as possible. Yet, you're sitting here talking about ending your own life. Why would you do that to them? How would that help?" he stated angrily. Kenny's eyes were wide, and Craig looked like he was about to punch Stan in the face. Kyle sighed.

"You know, Stan is right. You shouldn't leave your family behind in that way. Kenny, imagine what your family's lives would be like if you just died?" Kenny laughed and the three boys stared at him in confusion.

"Yeah. Imagine." Kenny repeated. Kenny groaned and rested his elbows against his knees. "It's not like suicide would work anyways." Stan leaned over and put his head in his hands. He hated talking about suicide. Not just because it's one of his dear friends, but because he's too afraid himself to talk about himself for a change.

"You don't cut yourself, do you?" Craig spoke up. Stan's head shot up in shock and annoyance. Kenny sighed again and looked up at Craig.

"I wouldn't do something that idiotic, Craig. Cutting is the dumbest thing you could do besides suicide." Stan narrowed his eyes a bit and heard Kyle laugh.

"Yeah and plus, does Kenny _look_ emo to you?" After that, Kenny laughed too a long with Kyle. Craig stated he was being serious, but they were still making jokes about it. Stan couldn't take the laughter and slammed his fist against the floor. They jumped and stared at Stan with wide eyes.

"That's not funny." Stan said with his head down and his bangs covering his eyes. The room was quiet for a couple minutes before Kyle cleared his throat and spoke up.

"S-Stan. It was _just_ a joke. It's okay." Kyle said, putting his hands up in defense. Stan folded his small hands in his lap tightly; so tight his knuckles turned white.

"Kyle" Stan said, head still down and face still not visible. "What if one of your friends were cutting themselves? Would you laugh?" Stan asked. They all raised a brow in confusion and shock, as they have never seen this side of Stan before. Little did they know, there was more to this face than they know.

 **xXx**

 **You can also read this on wattpad! The updates will be faster there just in case you're wondering. My username there is the same as it is here! i.e. everlasting-luv**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	3. Nobody Cares

"What if one of your friends were cutting themselves? Would you still laugh?" Stan asked. Kyle stared at him, dumbfounded and confused. All of them were.

"Stan? Where is this coming from?" Kyle asked. Stan kept his eyes averted to the ground, biting his lower lip so hard he can taste the metallic flavor of blood. He didn't say a word.

"Kyle was just joking, dude. Don't worry. He didn't mean anything by it. Right Kyle?" Kenny stated, looking at Kyle. Kyle nodded, and put a hand on Stan's shoulder. Craig snorted and chuckled a bit.

"Why are you so offended, Stan? Unless, _you_ cut yourself." Stan shot his head up and glared at Craig.

"I never said or implied that I cut myself, I just think that it's not funny to make fun of something so serious." He said, glaring at the stoic bastard. Craig raised and eyebrow in suspicion, and eye-balled Stan. Stan looked away, and tried his hardest to get back on topic.

"So..." he started awkwardly. "You don't want to kill yourself anymore, right?" He said, directing his gaze at Kenny. Kenny chuckled a little.

"Nah. I guess you guys are right. Suicide is selfish. I mean, I still feel like crap, but I won't actually do anything that asinine." Kenny stated. Stan raised a brow. Kyle leaned in and embraced Kenny in a hug.

"If you need anything at all, or even just a person to talk to, I'm not far away. I'll listen to whatever you need to get off your chest, I promise." Kyle said. Stan felt his heart drop and break...if it weren't already broken.

 _Why can't_ _ **I**_ _have that_. Stan thought, and looked away from his two friends hugging. Craig stared at Stan, eye brow still raised.

Kyle and Kenny separated and Stan stood up, stretching his arms.

"Well, if that's it, then I guess I'm out of here." Stan started to walk towards the door, but was stopped by someone grabbing him by the hem of his cardigan. Stan, however, panicked and grabbed the bottom of his cardigan, tugging it away from whoever grabbed it and let out a little yelp. The force caused him to slam his back against the wall. Kyle and Kenny stood up almost immediately while Craig still sat in the chair, wide eyed and with a shocked expression. Stan stood there, plastered against the wall with a look of horror spread across his face. Kyle took a step towards him cautiously.

"Stan? Are you okay?!" Kyle tried not to panic. Craig finally stood up, towering over Stan. Stan rubbed the back of his head and laughed nervously.

"Haha, yeah! I'm fine, dude! I'm just gonna go now, kay?" Stan said, and got out the door before anything else awkward happened. He got out the front door, but was completely unaware he was being followed.

"Hey! What the fuck was that about?" He heard Craig shout at him as he was leaving Kyle's. Stan turned around and glared.

"Nothing! I'm leaving. See ya, Tucker." Stan was about to get back onto the side walk when Craig grabbed him by the wrist and gently pulled him back. Stan struggled to rip his arm away from his grip.

"Let go, asshole!" Stan screamed. Craig's grip tightened and pulled him back again.

"Are you okay?" Craig asked. Stan's eyes widened and looked up at Craig.

"Yes, I'm fine!"

 _No I'm not..._

"Are you sure?" Craig asked again. Stan tried to pull off the best cocky smile he could while holding back tears.

"Yes! Let me go!"

 _Please don't let go..._

Craig loosened his grip, lingering a little, before he finally let go. He stood up straight and put his hands in the pockets of his blue hoodie. "Well, since you didn't drive here, do you want me to take you home at least?"

"No, I'll go home by myself. I'll be fine."

 _I don't want to go home. I don't want to go back there..._

Kenny came out of the front door, almost on cue, and walked up to Craig.

"I'm ready to go now." He stated, still looking a little depressed. He looked up at Craig, and then Stan. "You guys okay?" He asked, gripping the one backpack strap that's on his shoulder. Craig nodded, and Stan looked back up at Kenny.

"Fine." He said, before he turned around and went back down the street towards his house. All the way to his house, Stan beat himself up mentally for letting his true face show so much tonight. He couldn't help it though. Every time he's around the topic of suicide, depression, and cutting, he can't help but be himself even a little. He hated himself for it.

Stan got to his house and threw open the door before shutting it behind him. He walked up the staircase, not paying attention to where he was going and bumped into someone at the top. He looked up and felt his heart drop into his stomach.

He bumped into his sister.

"Move, you piece of shit before I throw you down these steps!" Shelly shouted. Before Stan could react, Shelly had already pushed him. Stan let out a cry and fell backwards. He tumbled down the steps a little, but he had grabbed onto the railing to stop himself from going down any further. He could feel his back scream at him and he couldn't get up.

Shelly moved passed Stan down the steps. She knelt down and grabbed Stan by the hair, pulling him the rest of the way down the stairs. It felt as if his scalp was going to be ripped off, along with all his hair.

"OW! SHELLY! STOP!" Stan screamed. That was a mistake. She dropped his head hard on the floor, and gave him hard kick in the ribs. Stan cried again, and at this moment, Sharron and Randy came into the room to see why their son was screaming.

"Shelly? Stan? What's going on?" Stan can feel his whole body hurting, but Shelly switched emotions quickly.

"Oh, Stan fell down the stairs again." She said, acting innocent. Stan looked up in horror.

"What?! NO! SHE-" before he could even finish, Shelly flashed him and evil look that sent chills through Stan's whole body. Stan cleared his throat a little and got up. He flinched at the the excruciating pain the coursed through his back, but he eventually stood up in front of his parents with his head hung low, holding the rib that Shelly had kicked.

"Yeah...I fell." Stan stated. Randy let out a groan.

"Stan, you need to be more careful! You can't play football if you keep fucking up your back!" He said, roughly slapping him in the shoulder blade. Stan winced at the pain, and mumbled a soft 'sorry' before he turned around and moved back up the steps.

"That boy is so klutzy!" He heard Sharron state as he opened his bedroom door. Randy laughed.

"Yeah, maybe Stan needs to learn how to move up and down the staircase!" He heard his mother and father laughing. He knew his dad was kidding, but it still hurt.

 _So now I'm an idiot._

Stan shut his door, and felt his eyes burn. The tears started to flow.

He sunk to the floor, sitting up against his door and pulling his knees to his chest. He continued to cry. He hid his face in his knees and cried hard into himself.

After a few minutes, Stan crawled over to his night stand drawer where his razor blade was. He tore open the door and gripped the sharp metal in his finger tips. He slipped this pants off and stumbled to his bare bedroom wall, before sinking to the floor, extending a leg, and began dragging the blade through his flesh.

Blood started to seep through the newly made wounds, getting mixed with the tears that were falling from Stan's face. Stan started to feel all his emotions and problems melt away for a little bit. The things he always wanted to tell his friends, but couldn't. The things he's been needing to tell his parents, but couldn't. All these things that need to be said but couldn't, are expressed through this.

He chose this.

He _needed_ this.

This is the only way he can get out all the pain and heart break.

After a while, Stan stared blankly at his wall covered in posters on the other side of his room. His head fell back against the wall and he dropped the razor blade. His room was lit by the moon light and street lights, but other than that, he was in the dark, alone. His tears were dry, and so was the blood on his thighs. This is his life.

This is his _hell._

Stan sat there for another fifteen minutes before he decided he wanted to go sit in the bath for a while. Then he remembered Shelly could still be awake. He stood up, wobbling a little bit, before he walked over the the side of the bed where his alarm clock is.

 _11:30_

 _Shelly goes to bed at 10 o' clock, so I'm safe._ Stan thought, as he grabbed a clean pair of boxer briefs and over-sized t-shirt. He slowly opened the door and looked down the hallway and noticed Shelly's door was shut.

"...thank god." Stan mumbled. He shut the door behind his back as gently and quietly as he could before he made it to the bathroom at the other end of the hall. Once in, he turned the water on and got out of his cardigan, t-shirt, and boxers. He sat down at the edge of the tub with his feet in the hot shallow water, staring down at his cuts. He brushed his fingers over his wounds, flinching a little at the contact. He couldn't imagine how people would react if they saw his cuts. He was thankful that, as a boy, nothing he wears goes above his knees. That makes it easier to hide.

But...what if people knew?

Would they care?

 _No. They wouldn't care._ A little voice screamed in his head. _They would throw you in a psychiatric hospital._

Stan scowled at the thought. Deep in his heart, it was most likely true. His parents wouldn't know what to do with him. They can barely handle him as is.

"They'd completely abandon me..." Stan mumbled to himself. By this time, the water was high enough for him to get in. He turned the water on, and emerged himself in the hot water. He pulled up his thin legs, staring at his thighs again watching red water rush off them. He looked around him and noticed the water had almost a translucent pink color to them thanks to all the dried blood. Stan shrugged it off and began cleaning his legs first before he shaved them. Ever since Stan was dared to shave his legs at Cartman's birthday party, he enjoyed the feeling of no hair and shaved ever since. Although he shaves, he's careful shaving the thigh area and normally doesn't shave that area much anyways.

After Stan cleaned himself, he pulled his knees to his chest and leaned his head against his right hand. After his bath, Stan got into his clean boxers and t-shirt before he left the bathroom. He made it to his room safe and sound. He shut the door and let out a sigh. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed his phone was lit up.

 _A text?_

Stan plopped down on his back on top of his bed and grabbed his phone. It was a number he's never seen before.

"Who the fuck are you?" Stan asked himself under his breath as he opened up his messaging.

 _hey. this is craig_ _-_ _ **Craig**_

Stan looked at his phone dumbfounded. Why was Craig texting Stan? And why so late?

 _How in the actual hell did you get my number? -_ _ **Stan**_

 _How do you think? I got it from Kenny, dumbass. -_ _ **Craig**_

"Tch..." Stan sneered. Why did Kenny give Craig his number? Stan rolled his eyes, and rolled over on his side.

 _What do you want? -_ _ **Stan**_

Stan lied his arm back against the mattress, phone still in his hand. Stan has never been so confused. He thought back to when Craig thought he was okay, and furrowed his eye brows. If he was that obvious to Craig, then why doesn't Kyle say something about his behavior? Maybe Kyle didn't care.

Stan immediately shook his head. Of course Kyle cared! He's his super best friend!

 _...right?_

Immediately Stan's phone vibrated and lit up in his hand. He opened up his messaging again, and his face fell and softened.

 _I can tell something is wrong with you. -_ _ **Craig**_

What? How? How could he tell? Stan sat up and stared at the screen of his smart phone. Stan was about to send another message when his phone vibrated again. A tear rolled down his cheek.

 _I can tell you're depressed. –_ _ **Craig**_

 **xXx**

 **Thank you all for the sweet reviews! They really motivate me to keep writing! Although I am really really REALLY enjoying writing my story, your reviews really help me.**

 **It helps to actually** _ **read**_ **and actually** _ **see**_ **for myself that people are interested and they care.**

 **Thank you.**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	4. You're Not Alone

Stan stared blankly at his phone the next morning with tears streaming down his cheeks. How could Craig find out so easily and his friends still don't even know? 

_I know you're depressed._ _**-Craig**_

Stan was so confused and shocked, he didn't even text Craig back that night. Instead, he stares at that message like a dumb ass, thinking how Craig could possibly figure Stan out.

He felt a little tinge of hope, but that was shot down when he realized this is Craig Tucker; the boy he never got a long with in his childhood and the one who doesn't like anybody except his three friends. Why would he even give a shit about Stan now?

Not only that, but he has a reputation to uphold. Outside, he's the girl chasing, easy going, happy-go-lucky, football star with a functional family. He needed to keep that reputation.

He locked his phone, and proceeded to leave the house and went to his car. His dad had washed the windshield off for him, and when Randy asked about it, Stan told him it was a prank and let it slide. If Shelly found out he had told their father, Stan wouldn't be alive.

He started up his car, and made it to the school safe and sound. He got out of his car and was shocked when he saw Craig next to him, getting out of his car at the same time.

 _That's weird._ Stan thought, as he gave Craig a small smile and tried to walk ahead. Craig, however, grabbed Stan by the arm and yanked him back.

"Gah! Dude, what the f-" before Stan finished, a car sped past them. Stan's heart pounded at the realization he almost got hit.

"O-oh...um. Thanks?" Stan said awkwardly, not meaning for it to sound more like a question. Craig scowled at the asshole who almost hit two more people in the parking lot.

"Fucking idiot." Craig groaned. He looked down at Stan, and punched him in the arm.

"And you watch where you're going! You almost got hit!" Craig yelled. Stan rubbed his arm in pain and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Stan tried to walk ahead of Craig, but Craig caught up fast.

 _Goddamn those long legs..._

"I wanted to talk to you." Craig said, in his usual monotone voice. Stan knew what was coming and felt his anxiety increase, but played it cool.

"Oh? About what?" Stan said cooly. Craig glared at him as they walked into the school.

"You know what, asshole. Why didn't you text me back after I said I knew you were-" Stan's eyes grew wide and covered Craig's mouth with his hand before he could finish.

"Dude shut the fuck up! We're in the school now..." Stan said frantically. Craig looked surprised at the sudden personality switch, but then raised a brow. He grabbed Stan's hand and pushed it away.

"So I'm right then?" Craig said. Stan mentally face-palmed. He gave himself away!

"N-no! You're not! I'm fine! I'm happy!" Stan said, trying to defend himself. Craig crossed his arms and leaned in close to his face, noses inches a part. Stan blushed, looking down at Craig's nose and back up at Craig with wide eyes.

"Liar." Craig said, backing away again. Stan's face fell. How could he give himself away that easily? What' wrong with him? Craig could sense Stan's emotions, and sighed, bringing a hand up to his forehead.

"Listen," he started "my parents are going to be gone all day working and they won't be back until late tonight. Come over." He said. Stan looked at him, baffled.

"Why?" Stan asked. Craig kept his emotionless look.

"Because." He stated, and walked away. Stan's jaw dropped. How in the hell could Craig be so blunt? 'Because' isn't even an answer!

Stan rolled his eyes and walked in the other direction. Should Stan go over to Craig's? Is it worth it?

 _What in the hell does he expect to do?_ Stan thought to himself, as he made his way into his classroom. He sat down, his eyebrows still furrowed. _Would it be good for me to go over there? Can I trust him?_

Stan shook his head and planted his forehead in his hands. _No, what the fuck am I thinking? I can't trust him. I don't even know him!_

 _I'm not going over there. No fucking way._

Stan went through the whole day avoiding Craig as much as possible. He knew Craig wanted to talk to him about whatever Stan is going through, and Stan doesn't want to talk. That's the _last_ thing he wants. Since it's Craig, he doesn't know if Craig would laugh at him or not, so he's going to just avoid him.

At the end of the day, Stan made it to the back doors. He left class early as to not run into Craig. Since he accidentally parked _right next to him,_ he needs to leave before Craig gets out of class.

Much to his dismay, he saw Craig standing next to the exit against the wall with his hands in his pockets staring at him with a crooked smile. Stan's jaw dropped for the third time that day. How in the hell did he beat him here?!

"I knew you'd do that." Craig said, standing up straight. Stan gripped the straps of his backpack and stood straight.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stan stated with a blank look. Craig laughed.

"Yeah sure you don't." He said, opening the door and let Stan through first. He walked out with his head down.

"Thanks." He mumbled. Craig hummed in response and they walked quietly to their cars. Before they got in, Craig looked at Stan again.

"Come over." He said. Stan groaned and threw his backpack in the car.

"Why?" He asked. Craig kept his blank look.

"Because." There it was again. Stan put his hands on his hips and raised a brow at him.

"Yeah you said that last time too. That's not a reason." He responded before getting into his car. Craig leaned down in the opened passenger seat window as Stan started up his car.

"I don't think you should be alone. That's why." He said. Stan snapped his head over to Craig with a worried look. Before he could drive away, he heard Craig call to him again.

"I want you to have someone to talk to." Stan gripped his steering wheel and frowned.

"If I have time, I'll come over." He said, rolling up his passenger seat window and pulled out of the parking lot. As he drove towards the exit, he saw Craig in his rear view mirror watching him leave.

"Jesus Christ, what's his problem?" Stan asked himself, heading home. He's not going to Tucker's. No way in hell.

When he pulled up to his house, he noticed something odd. Shelly's sitting outside on the steps. Stan stopped his car, and looked at her horrified. She's pissed.

Whenever she's pissed and had a bad day, she waits for Stan to come home. When Stan comes home, he's her punching bag. Shelly hasn't waited for him in a long time, but Stan can't go inside now. Not if he's going to get beaten to a pulp.

Normally he'd go to Kyle's, but he's still in class. The only person he can go to is...

 _No._

He has to go to Craig's.

"Son of a bitch!" Stan snarled, and slammed his hands on the wheel. He groaned and pulled into his neighbors' driveway and turned around. He's going to Tucker's.

When he pulled up to Craig's house, he noticed his car in the driveway. Stan pulled up next to the curb and put his car in park. He took a deep breath and got out of his car. He made it up to his old childhood enemy's house and rang the door bell. Stan stood there casually with his back pack on one shoulder. After a few minutes, the gate next to the house opened and Craig came out. Stan looked over at him.

"I thought you weren't going to come over. What changed your mind?" Craig asked, acting cocky. Stan rolled his eyes and jumped off the porch, walking over to the 6'2 teen. Craig has always been the tallest kid in South Park and he never liked standing next to him. Especially now since Stan is a fairly short person.

"I don't know." Stan said, giving the same vague answer Craig gave him earlier. Asshole.

"Ah, I see." Craig said, dropping his arms and opening the gate again. "This way." He called over his shoulder. Stan followed him. When he made it to their backyard, he was flabbergasted. He always thought Craig's family was poor, but he has a pool and large patio with a built in fireplace? Stan couldn't hold that in.

"I thought you guys had a low income." Stan said, staring at the sparkling pool. Craig grunted.

"We did until my parents both got corporate jobs and my dad was promoted." Craig said. Stan looked at Craig confused again when he noticed they were going to a basement.

And to get to the door to the basement, Stan had to go down the stairs.

 _Fucking hell..._

Craig went down the stairs that's next to the deck and opened up the screen door to the basement. He turned around when he realized Stan hadn't followed him and looked up the concrete steps. His face fell when he noticed Stan was about to have a panic attack.

"Stan? Come on." He said. Stan stared at the steps and into the basement. Stan did _not_ like stairs.

"I'm not going." Stan said, stepping away from the stairs. Craig furrowed his eyebrows.

"Come on, it's fine." Craig stated, getting a little angry. Stan shook his head.

"Umm...is there another way in? One without stairs?" Craig looked at him still dumbfounded.

"What kind of basement would it be if it wasn't below the rest of the house? Come on!" Craig was starting to get a little annoyed, and Stan was on the verge of crying.

After a while, Stan gulped and braced himself. He looked around him first, and then took his first step down the stairs. He gripped the railing for dear life and continued to slowly descend the stair case. Craig went from annoyed to really _really_ worried. He's never seen someone so horrified to go down a flight of stairs. He knew something horrible happened to Stan and it involved a stair case.

When Stan made it to Craig's reach, Craig put his hand out to Stan. Stan looked at him, his hand, and then back up at him with the same wide red-eyed look. Craig gave him a small smile.

"It's okay." He said. Stan took a minute, but reached out for his hand and gripped it. Craig helped him down and led him into the basement.

"T-thanks." Stan said, still shaking. Craig patted him on the back softly.

"It's fine. I didn't know you had a phobia for stair cases." With that, they entered what seemed to be a small apartment. Stan looked around and dropped his backpack. It's not like a regular basement, but it's an apartment!

The living room was a decent size, with a flat screen tv and a PS3 and PS4 hooked up to it, along with older game stations such as the PS1, GameCube, NES, SNES, and so on. Judging by the bookshelf filled with games of all kinds and different gaming posters, Craig is a serious gamer.

He looked toward the kitchen area, and that was a decent size too with stainless steel appliances. There was a good sized bedroom down a small hallway and a good sized bathroom with it.

"Wow. You're lucky, dude. I would kill to have my own space." Stan said with awe. Craig sat down on the sofa and watched Stan closely. The way Stan moved and looked at everything with amazement was enough to make Craig smile. It was... _cute_. When Stan opened up another door, Craig shot up and stared at Stan again.

Stan had discovered another staircase. Stan looked up the stairs and there was what appeared to be another door way. Stan looked over at Craig with confusion.

"So is that to the rest of the house?" He asked. Craig sighed and sat back down.

"No. That's blocked off."

 _Blocked off?_

"Why is it blocked off?" Stan asked. Craig groaned and got up again. He walked up behind Stan and shot the door. He kept his hand on the door with Stan plastered against it, staring down at him.

"I wanted to talk to you about _you_. Not me." Craig said, as he grabbed Stan by the wrist and sat him down on the couch next to him. Stan blushed, and looked away but Craig caught his chin and forced him to look at him.

"What the fuck was that?" Craig asked. Stan blinked in confusion.

"Was what?" Stan asked.

"Your reaction to the staircase. What was that about?" He asked. Stan looked down in embarrassment for a minute.

"I...Um..." Stan didn't know what to say. Craig turned Stan's face towards him and stared at him intently. Stan grew annoyed and looked away again.

"Why do you care anyways? Why are you suddenly so worried about me?" Stan snapped, still not looking at him. Craig was about to reply, but Stan kept going. Stan's feelings were pouring out. All those years of repressed words that needed said were coming out like word vomit. Just like the words, the tears came with them.

"Nobody gave a shit about how I felt. If I _did_ talk about how I was feeling or how I felt about a situation, I'm called selfish! I can't tell people about how I feel or what I'm going through because nobody would understand! Nobody cares and nobody will ever care! I'm stuck in a fucking hole and nobody will help me out!" Stan started to scream and cry. He never thought he'd tell Craig this. He never thought he'd tell anybody this. He buried his face in his hands and the tears flowed. Craig looked at him with concern and put a hand on his shoulder.

After a while, Stan's cries reduced to sobs. He didn't know what to do with himself. Craig was going to tell everyone that the star quarter back isn't who everyone thinks he is.

"I'm all alone..." Stan stated by accident. Craig heard it though, and pulled Stan into a hug. Stan's eyes widened when he realized Craig is hugging him. This is all Stan ever wanted. A hug.

Stan reluctantly wrapped his arms around Craig, and cried into him. He felt Craig's warmth around him and took in his scent. Craig lied his head on top of Stan's and held him in his arms. He brought up a hand and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Stan, you're not alone. At least, you don't have to be. Not anymore." Craig stated softly, keeping his hand on the back of Stan's head and an arm wrapped firmly around him.

After Stan calmed himself down, he separated himself from Craig, and wiped the tears from his eyes. He sniffled a little, and looked up at Craig.

"Why are you doing this, Craig? Why are you so concerned?" Craig looked at him and sighed.

"Ever since that night with Kenny, I knew something was up with you. Especially when Kenny and Kyle were making jokes about cutting. I've never been around you so I was shocked when you...um...acted like a different person, I guess? I don't know. I knew something was wrong with you though." Craig explained. Stan stared at him, and then looked down at his hands.

"Does Kyle and Kenny know?" Craig said. Stan looked at him again.

"About what I told you?" Stan asked. Craig sighed.

"Well, yeah, but do they know your depressed?" Stan looked back down with a frown.

"No, not exactly." Craig looked at him confused.

"Not exactly?" He repeated. Stan groaned when he realized he needed to explain. On one hand, he didn't want to explain it and keep it secret, but on another, he's happy to have someone to talk to.

He'll tell him.

"Umm...they know I have depression, but they don't know I was...diagnosed." Stan said, and Craig blinked.

"Diagnosed with what?" _Oh shit..._

"Chronic depression." Stan didn't dare look up at Craig. He knows Craig knows chronic depression is a big deal. Craig isn't a dumb ass.

"...what? Chronic depression?" Craig asked in shock. Stan nodded.

"Kyle doesn't know that? Why?" Stan took a deep breath, and told him. He told him how he didn't want Kyle to know something so serious. He told him he was scared he wouldn't care. He told him Kenny has a harder life than he did, so he didn't bother. Craig stared at him in shock.

"Stan, are you serious? You didn't tell Kyle because Kenny has a worse life than you?" Stan nodded, and Craig groaned.

"Listen, Stan. It's true that Kenny has a hard life, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve help. Stan, you need to get professional help! Not keep it secret! Do you take medicine for it at least?" Craig leaned over towards Stan, pressing these answers from him. Stan kept his gaze from him.

"I was but my dad took me off of them since they affected my football performance. They made me drowsy." Craig fumed and shot off the couch.

"What the fuck?! He took you _off_ of your medication? For FOOTBALL?!" Stan flinched when Craig shot off the couch and raised his voice. He never expected Craig to be so...mad.

Stan stared at him with wide eyes. "Craig, calm down! That's not even serious compared to what I have to go through!" Stan shouted, and covered his mouth. He knew Craig caught that when Craig looked over at him and gave him a hard look.

"What? What else do you have to go through?" He asked. Stan immediately dismissed it with a 'never mind', but Craig knew better.

"No! What else do you have to go through?" He said, sitting back down. Stan started to tear up again, shaking his head frantically.

"No!" He yelled. Craig grabbed Stan's face, making him look at him. Craig's face softened and he got off the couch and kneeled down in front of him.

"Stan, come on. You need to talk about this. Tell me, and I'll tell you a secret about me." Stan looked at Craig with a questioning look, but a peak of curiosity was beginning to form.

Stan took a deep breath and looked at Craig, un-trusting.

"Promise you won't laugh." Stan said. Craig raised an eye brow.

"Why would I laugh?" He asked. Stan glared at him.

"Just promise me!" Craig rolled his eyes and nodded.

"I promise I won't laugh. Now tell me."

"Okay, well. I get abuse at home, but it's not my mom or my dad. It's my sister. She beats me." Stan said, and Craig looked at him shocked. Stan didn't stop though.

"She tells me every day that I'm nobody and I'm not going to be anybody. She tells me nobody loves me or cares about me and that her life would be better if I was never born. She does and says awful things to me, and I can't tell anybody because if I do they laugh at me, call me a pussy, and tell me to man up." Stan's tears fell again, and Craig kept his look on Stan.

"What does she do to you? Does she hit you?" Craig asked. Stan sighed again.

"She beats me. The reason why I came here instead of go back home is because she was waiting for me outside. When she does that, it means she's pissed. I'm her punching bag. If I went home she would've beaten me again. She's done worse then beat me though. She ran me over with a lawn mower, thrown me into china cabinets and out windows; and the reason why I'm afraid of staircases is because she pushes me down the stairs all the time. I wait for everyone else to go ahead of me before I go down. She even broke my back when she threw me down." Craig continued to listen, and the more he listened, the more pissed he got. This is the _real_ Stan Marsh.

"Where the fuck are your parents in all this?" Craig asked. Stan gave Craig a crooked smile, and it sent shivers down Craig's spine. He didn't recognize this Stan. He's so... _vulnerable._

"If I told my parents, she would do anything she could to hurt me." Stan said, crying again. It felt so good to tell someone without getting laughed at, he told Craig about everything Shelly has ever done to him. He told him about the incident that shocked him to his core when Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman all laughed at him when Stan finally told them. He didn't stop there though.

He told him how much he distrusted everyone, how much he hates football, and that he's gay. Craig was stunned to hear all this. When Stan was finished, Craig pulled him into a hug and held him again, running his fingers through his new friend's hair.

"Stan, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. Okay?" That line is what finally tore down his first wall. Stan melted into Craig and cried.

Stan has never cried in front of everyone as much as he cries alone.

He's not alone.

 **xXx**

 **Ooooooo Craig has a secret! (o-o)**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Please review so I know if people are reading this still.**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	5. We're The Same

Stan continued to cry into Craig's chest for what seemed like hours. He had always wanted to hear someone say that they cared and say he had someone to run to, but he never imagined that Craig Tucker would be the one to say it.

After a while, Stan sat up a little and sniffled, wiping his eyes with his hands. He looked up at Craig and gave a small smile.

"Thank you so much, Craig. That really means a lot." He said. Craig smiled and gave Stan another hug.

"Yeah. No problem." Stan lingered a bit before letting go, and sat back against the couch. He looked down at his hands and sighed.

"So..." Stan started awkwardly. "You said you'd tell me a secret you have." Craig stared at Stan with a blank expression and gave a heavy sigh before sitting down next to Stan, putting a hand to his forehead.

"Yeah, I said that didn't I? Okay, but promise you won't tell anyone else." He said, giving Stan a hard look. Stan gave Craig a questioning look and nodded.

"I promise I won't tell." Stan gave Craig a little smile, reassuring him that it's okay.

"Okay, well it has to do with why the apartment down here is separated from the rest of the house." Craig said, not looking at Stan. Stan kept his eyes on Craig, listening intently.

"Why is it blocked off?" Stan asked. Craig cleared his throat, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and chin resting against his hands.

"My parents are trying to pretend I'm not a part of the family."

That hit Stan hard as his eyes grew in shock. He was going to say something, but Craig kept going.

"When I turned 14, I found out that my dad isn't my biological father. When my mom went to Peru while she was in the Peace Core, she cheated on my dad with a Peruvian man. She came back pregnant with me. So, when my mom told my dad years later, he said he didn't want anything to do with me and threatened to leave my mom. When he threatened to leave her, she became desperate and pretty much shut me out of the family." Craig took a deep breath and looked over to Stan. "It doesn't bother me anymore, but it fucked me up pretty bad as a kid."

Stan furrowed his eyebrows, not believing what he was hearing. How could his parents just shut him out and neglect him like that?

That's when Stan realized that him and Craig were kind of similar.

They both live a hard life and have dysfunctional families.

"How did you deal with that kind of pain though? I mean, if my parents did that to me-" Craig cut Stan off with a chuckle.

"No no no, it _did_ fuck me up. I said that, remember? I started hanging around the wrong crowd; drinking and smoking pot, and I even tried some drugs. But Token really got through to me."

"How?" Stan asked, questioning. Craig smiled at Stan.

"Token knew that with the way I was going, I was going to end up killing myself with drugs and alcohol. He told me that instead of hurting myself, I should prove to my parents that I _am_ worth something; that I _can_ be somebody and I didn't need them to do it. He told me 'Craig, is this how you want to be remembered when you die?'. That's what made me snap and I realized that's not how I want to die." Stan couldn't stop staring at Craig. Craig, however, put a hand on Stan's shoulder.

"You need to do the same thing." He said. Stan tilted his head.

"Huh?" Stan said. Craig gave Stan a serious look.

"Prove to Shelly that you _are_ worth something and you _can_ be somebody. Stan, Shelly has no control over your life. You're the only one that can decide who and what kind of person you'll be." Stan blinked in shock.

Craig was right.

Stan felt another tear fall and nodded. That was the best advice anyone has ever given him. The only question though is...

 _Do I have the will to live?_

"Okay, Craig...I'll try." Craig gave Stan a sympathetic look before slapping his hands on his knees and standing up, groaning. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at Stan with a bored expression.

"Let's play games." Craig said. Stan tilted his head to the side.

"Huh?"

"You heard me." Craig grabbed a controller and threw it to Stan. Stan looked down at the SNES controller, confused. He hadn't played Nintendo since he was nine.

He looked back at Craig and watched casually walk over to his bookshelf filled with games. He grabbed a SNES cartridge and kneeled down to take out what looks like an EarthBound game.

Stan's face dropped when he saw him put in Super Mario World.

 _Super Mario World? How old do you think I am, Craig? Six?_

Craig turned on the game and sat back down next to Stan.

"Umm...Craig? Why are we playing Super Mario?" Stan asked, dumbfounded. Craig looked back over at Stan and gave a sly smile.

"What, are you afraid I'm going to kick your ass?" Craig said, cocky as ever. Stan glared at him.

"Bastard. I can beat you at any game. Even if it's Super Mario." Stan spoke. Stan is very competitive, but he never thought he'd be competitive with a Mario game.

Craig got through the first level with ease, and when he got Mario and Yoshi through the goal, he gave Stan another cocky grin. Stan flared his cheeks and glared at the screen. He'll beat Craig. He didn't care.

Just then, Stan wasn't paying close enough attention and Luigi fell into a hole. Stan's mouth dropped, and Craig roared in laughter. Stan glared at Craig again and punched him in the arm.

"Shut up, Tucker!"

After about an hour of Stan and Craig falling into holes and getting killed by koopas, Craig wound up dominating Stan with only four deaths while Stan suffered more than he can even say.

Craig set his controller down and got up, stretching. He walked over to his fridge and took out a Dr. Pepper before looking over his shoulder at Stan.

"Do you want anything?" He called. Stan sighed and looked at his phone.

 _9:30?!_

Stan didn't think he'd blow that much time without knowing. Stan got up and grabbed his keys and backpack.

"Nah. I gotta get going." Stan said, giving Craig a small smile. Craig furrowed his brows and set his now opened can down on the counter.

"You're going back? Are you sure?" Craig asked. Stan waved him off and smiled again.

"I'll be fine, Craig. Don't worry." Craig sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Okay. Come over again tomorrow." Stan looked back at him confused again.

"Why?" He said. Craig looked down at the ground.

"Because." He stated bluntly. Stan rolled his eyes.

"Tch. That's a great reason, Tucker." Stan said, starting off towards the door.

"Great. We'll play some Super Smash Brothers tomorrow. Deal." Stan whipped around with an annoyed look.

"What?!" Stan glared at Craig, and then walked out the door, not wanting to deal with someone as blunt and persistent as him.

Stan got into his car and started it up. He put it into drive and started off down the street. He couldn't get what Craig said to him out of his head.

 _Prove to Shelly that you_ _ **are**_ _worth something..._

Stan shook his dead a little and pulled into his driveway, turning off his car. He opened up the front door quietly and noticed the lights were off.

 _Everyone must've went to bed._

Stan headed up the stairs quietly and shut the door behind him. He turned his light on and noticed a piece of paper on his desk. Stan dropped his things and picked up the paper. His heart dropped when he read it.

 _Hey Turd._

 _I noticed you took off like the pathetic fucking pussy that you are. You're so useless. Even as my punching bag. Just like everything else in life, you run away from it. Why don't you stay and fight like a man for a change?_

 _Oh I forgot. Real men have balls._

 _You have no future, and I hope you know that. You should just kill yourself. Everyone is better off if you were dead, and even you know that. So what are you waiting for?_

 _Go ahead. Cut yourself again, you little emo pussy. Do it. I hope you cut deep enough to die of fucking blood loss._

 _I can't wait to attend your funeral._

 _I can't fucking wait._

Stan crumpled up the paper and threw it at the door. He started to cry again, collapsing onto the floor. He didn't have to be home for her to hurt him.

Stan felt his head swimming. He grabbed his razor blade and tore his pants off before sitting on the floor again.

But he paused.

 _Prove to Shelly that you_ _ **are**_ _worth something and you_ _ **can**_ _be somebody..._

Stan's eyes grew when he remembered those words.

 _You're the only one that can decide who and what kind of person you'll be._

Craig was right. Stan is the only one that can decide his fate and his future, not Shelly. The note was proof enough that by cutting himself...

 _...I'm letting her win._

 _No...I'm not going to let her win this game. Not if it kills me._

Stan grunted and threw the razor blade at his closet door where it lied in the moon light. Stan pulled his knees up to his chest and gripped his hair, crying into himself.

 _You_ _ **are**_ _worth something_

 _You_ _ **can**_ _be somebody_

This is Stan's chance to be himself. He finally has someone to talk to and share his pain.

That's right.

Craig is abused too. Stan has someone to somewhat relate too now. He has a chance now.

He doesn't want to throw all of that away.

 _I won't let you win, Shelly._

Stan looked up when he heard his phone vibrate. He wiped the tears from his face, and looked at the screen assuming it was Craig. But he was wrong.

 _I need to talk to you tomorrow. Meet me at Stark's Pond tomorrow._ _ **–Kyle**_

 **xXx**

 **(*UPDATE PLEASE READ*)**

 **Sorry this chapter is shorter. I've been busy lately.**

 **Updates are going to be a little slow since Independence Day is coming up and, as an American, I've been getting ready for it. Plus my family and I are focused on moving at the moment.**

 **So be prepared for any long periods of me not updating. But don't worry! It doesn't mean I stopped writing this. :)**

 **As always, please review! All your reviews make me soooooo happy (as Craig would put it) ^-^**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	6. Confronted

_I need to talk to you tomorrow. Meet me at Stark's Pond tomorrow._ _ **–Kyle**_

Stan continued to stare at the message in confusion with a raised eye brow. What could Kyle want? What did he want to talk to Stan about? He had no clue.

Stan sighed before he stood up, staggering a bit. He wiped the remaining dry tears from his face and flopped down on his bed, landing on his back. He brought his phone up to his face and shot Kyle a text.

 _Why?_ _ **–Stan**_

Stan put down his phone and stared up at the ceiling. He was swimming with emotions. Depression. Anger. Confusion.

Did he still want to commit suicide? Is he going to continue cutting himself?

Yes.

The answer is yes.

It's a battle Stan feels he has to fight alone. He doesn't trust anyone with his feelings, and he doesn't want to be laughed at.

 _What about Craig?_

Oh. That's right. Tonight was the first time in years he ever told someone how he felt. It was the first time he ever showed his true colors to anyone. When Craig hugged him he felt a little tinge of hope. Hope that he will finally have someone to talk to. Hope that he won't suffer alone. Craig told him about his family life, and Stan realized he has someone to relate to on some level.

What about Kyle? Would Kyle be as understanding as Craig? Stan doesn't know the answer to that.

His phone vibrated again, and Stan lazily looked up at his phone.

 _Just meet up with me at Stark's Pond tomorrow at noon. I'll explain there._ _ **-Kyle**_

Stan rolled his eyes and dropped his phone onto the floor, staring up at his ceiling. Whatever Kyle wanted, it probably had something to do with Kenny.

Still…

This doesn't seem right. It's almost as if Kyle wanted to talk to Stan about something not relating to Kenny at all. However, that's just a hunch.

 _I'll find out tomorrow what Kyle wants._ With that, Stan closed his eyes and fell asleep.

The next day, Stan got into his car, and headed to Stark's Pond. He still had some anxiety about what Kyle could possibly want. Normally when Kyle wants to meet Stan at the pond, it had something to do with _him_. Stan spent that whole morning trying to figure out what he had done wrong that would make Kyle upset enough to meet him at the old hang out, but he has no clue.

He drove into the gravel parking area and parked next to Kyle's car. He got out, and saw Kyle sitting on the shore, throwing rocks at the water. Stan walked down the hill towards him and sat next to his read headed friend. Over the years Kyle's hair has gotten a lot more tame, so instead of his childhood jew-fro, his hair is thinner but still has some curl to it.

Kyle sighed and brought his knees up, resting his arms on his knees and stared at the lake. Stan was growing more and more anxious by the minute and couldn't take the silence.

"So why did you ask me to meet you here?" he asked, staring at the lake instead of Kyle. Kyle threw another rock into the water and stayed silence for a couple minutes before he spoke again.

"I wanted to talk about you." He stated, looking over at Stan with a worried expression on his face. Stan stared back, confused.

"About me? What about me? What did I do wrong?" Stan asked. Kyle chuckled and put a hand on Stan's shoulders, almost reassuringly.

"You didn't do anything wrong Stan. It's just, I don't know, you don't seem…happy." Kyle said. Stan felt his heart drop a little. Kyle continued.

"You don't ever talk to me about how you feel anymore, and I just want to make sure you're not depressed or anything. You've been acting strange lately and I have a feeling it has something to do with the fact that I talk to Kenny about his feelings, but I never talk to you about yours. I'm trying to figure out why. Why don't you talk to me about how you feel?" Stan sat there, stunned at what he had just heard. How in the hell did Kyle figure that out?

Well, Kyle was always good at reading people. He's smart, and he knows his friends. The problem is, Stan doesn't feel like he can communicate easily to Kyle anymore.

Stan looked down at the ground and fiddled with some rocks. What should he do? Should he tell Kyle how he feels or should he keep to himself? The answer is obvious, but he doesn't want to be laughed at. Stan released a heavy sigh before he spoke again.

"Kyle, nothing is wrong. I'm fine. I'm just a little stressed that's all. Trying to juggle school and football isn't easy." Stan straight up lied to his best friend with a fake smile. It's a terrible feeling, but Kenny needs Kyle more than Stan does. Stan convinced himself over the years that his life is no comparison to Kenny's, so he kept his mouth shut.

It'll all work out in the end, won't it? Or will it fail?

Stan has no idea.

Kyle stared at Stan for a second before looking back at the lake. "Are you telling the truth?" Kyle asked. Stan frowned and looked at the water too. Maybe it would be best to tell Kyle how he feels, but right now he's not prepared. Besides, what would Kyle do if he found out about Shelly? Laugh? Report it? He doesn't know. For now he'll keep his mouth shut.

"Yeah." Stan said again. Kyle gave Stan a small smile and then wrapped Stan in a hug. After he released him, Kyle stood up and stretched.

"Well that's all I wanted to know. Kenny needs me right now so I'm going to head over to his house. Text me if you need someone to talk to, kay?" And with that, Kyle walked to his car. Stan let out a huff as he frowned at the water. He didn't want to go home since Shelly is home today so he'll just stay at the lake a little while longer. He needs to think things through anyways.

He pulled out his phone and noticed he had a text message from the team captain of the football team. Stan glared and opened it up.

 _Practice is going to be tomorrow at 2:45. Make sure you show up._ _ **–Captain**_

Stan rolled his eyes and fell onto his back. He really didn't want to go to practice. He didn't want anything to do with football in general. If he could, he'd fib and skip but his dad has such a high opinion of himself and of Stan so that wouldn't be a good idea.

 _I worry about others too much._

Stan closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the water hitting the shore. It felt relaxing to him. He wanted to stay there all day. Maybe even the rest of his life. He knows that can't happen though.

After a while, Stan's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone vibrating. He looked at it and noticed it was from Craig.

 _Come over._ _ **–Craig**_

"Ugh…" Stan groaned. Craig had sent another vague text message. Stan stood up and shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweat shirt and headed to his car again.

He needed to get his mind off of football anyways. God how he hated it. Playing some video games with him will probably get his mind off of all of this.

Something felt stranger than usual though. It's almost as if he's excited to see Craig again.

Stan blushed. No. There's no way…

 _I don't have a crush on him!_

Stan slammed his head into his car horn, making it honk a little. He didn't care. First he lied to his best friend, then he finds out he has to go to practice tomorrow, and now he has a crush on fucking _Tucker?!_

Stan shook his head violently. Maybe it was just a stupid little feeling since he has someone to talk to now.

Yeah, that's it.

 **xXx**

 **Again with the short chapters? Seriously? Ugh…I'm sorry. At least I posted another chapter after like, two weeks. .**

 **This chapter was really tough. I think it's a lot weaker than the previous ones, but I didn't have time to think this one through completely. I've been adding to this chapter for a week and it turned out crappy.**

 **I'm sorry.**

 **The next one will be a thousand times better since Stan is starting to get feelings for Craig. Be prepared to be hit with tons of feels ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**

 **Thank you guys for being patient for two whole weeks! Updates will still be slow until we move into the new house so you'll probably have to suffer another two weeks. I love you all for the patience though!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	7. I'm Sorry

**Hey, everybody! I'm sorry about the delay! I've been really busy packing. I also got a new baby nephew and got on anti-depressants. Oh, and my grandpa passed away of stomach cancer so it's been a hard two months. Things are looking up though!**

 **I got the rest of the story all planned out so I'm thinking about 4 or 5 more chapters left? We'll see.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **xXx**

Stan thought a lot about his and Kyle's conversation at Stark's Pond while driving to Craig's place. He knows Kyle told him that Stan can tell him anything, but does that mean _anything_? Thinking back, Kyle and his friends were only eight at the time he told them Shelly hurts him so maybe Kyle didn't understand?

No. Stan shouldn't give them any excuses. He's so confused. He doesn't know if he should open his mouth to Kyle or not.

Stan stopped his car in front of the Tucker household and turned off the car. He sat there for a few minutes, still in thought.

Let's see. What would happen if Stan told Kyle? Laugh? Mock him? Go to CPS? No matter the answer, the outcome isn't what he wants. Either Kyle would treat it as something not serious at all, or he'll take it _very_ seriously and go to the police or Child Protective Services.

All of a sudden, his driver side door flew open. Stan snapped his head up and noticed it was Craig, leaning down staring at Stan with a blank look. Stan felt his heart beat faster when he was grabbed by the wrist and pulled out of the car.

"Hey! Let go, asshole!" Stan shouted, trying to shake Craig's grip. Stan was dragged through the backyard and into the basement/apartment. Craig let go of Stan's wrist and stared at Stan with his normal blank expression. Stan huffed and glared back at Craig.

"What the fuck was that for?" Stan asked. Craig shrugged his shoulders.

"You took too long. Plus you were just sitting in your car like a fucking dumbass." Stan rolled his eyes at Craig as he sat down on the couch. Craig plopped down next to him, GameCube controller in hand. Stan raised a brow and reluctantly took it.

"What are we playing?" Stan asked, his voice monotone and bored.

"Super Smash Brothers Melee. I feel like beating the shit out of you through a game." Craig stated bluntly. Stan rolled his eyes.

"Pft. Whatever, dude. I'm kicking your ass."

After choosing their characters, they picked a stage randomly and the game commenced. About an hour went by and Craig had won ever battle they fought. Stan would've done better if he didn't have so much on his mind. Craig looked over at Stan and furrowed his eyebrows, setting his controller down. Stan hadn't noticed he was staring at his lap until Craig turned towards him, taking the controller from Stan's hands.

"What's wrong?" Craig asked. Stan stared at Craig, not knowing what to say. He wanted to talk about a lot of things.

What should he say to Kyle? Should he even tell Kyle about his abuse at home? What would happen if he told his friends? How would they react?

What are these feelings he's getting for Craig? Is he and Kenny dating? How serious is it? Would Stan and Craig make a good couple?

So many things Stan wants to talk about but feels he can't. He feels repressed feelings wanting to be expressed, but unable to.

Stan is scared.

He's afraid of consequences. He's afraid of what _could_ happen. He's afraid of showing Craig too much. He doesn't know if he should open up to him if he can't even open up to Kyle completely. Craig doesn't even know Stan cuts himself.

What would happen if Craig saw his thighs? How would he react? Would he be disgusted? Angry? Sad? He doesn't know and he doesn't want to know.

Then Stan felt a pair of big hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at Craig. Stan didn't have time to get mad when Craig leaned forward, pressing his lips to Stan's. Stan's eyes grew in shock and he felt his heart rate rise.

Craig slowly pulled away, lowering one of his hands to place them on his neck. Stan continued to stare at Craig with shock and disbelief as Craig scooted closer to him, pressing his lips to Stan's a second time. Craig moved his lips against Stan's, softly rubbing his thumb over Stan's soft neck.

Stan gave in, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of Craig's lips against his own. He placed his hands on either side of Craig's neck, as Craig gently pushed Stan down onto his back. Craig ran his tongue over Stan's bottom lip, as if asking permission to go a little further. Stan complied, opening his mouth slightly for the taller boy's tongue to enter. Their tongues clashed, exploring each other's mouths and discovering a whole new taste. Craig moved released Stan's mouth and placed kisses along his jaw bone and down his neck. Stan let out a soft moan, running his fingers through Craig's hair as Craig placed small kisses along his neck. He stopped just above his shoulder and bit down, working on a hickey.

"Nng! Craig..." Stan couldn't help but moan his name. Craig worked Stan's skin for a few seconds before letting go. He looked down at his handy work before smirking.

"You bruise easy, don't you Marsh." Craig said, leaning back down kissing Stan's throat and his jaw bone.

"Shut up." Stan said, annoyed. Craig laughed into Stan's skin before connecting their mouths again. Stan moaned again and his breath hitched when he felt a cold hand go up his shirt, feeling his hand run up his stomach and to his chest. Stan gasped when Craig pinched his nipple, shoving his tongue back into Stan's mouth.

 _Ohgodohgodohgodohgod..._

Stan was at a loss for words. Does Craig intend on having sex with him? Is he ready?

Almost on cue, Craig unzipped Stan's pants, intending on taking them off. Stan squeezed his eyes shot, but then shot them back open when he realized something.

His thighs are cut up to hell! How in the hell could he explain that to Craig?!

"STOP!" Stan shouted. Craig jumped up and stared at Stan with the most shocked expression. Stan's blush never disappeared as he stared back up at Craig.

"I gotta go." Stan said jumping up. Craig called out Stan's name and tried to reach for him but Stan was too fast as he grabbed his shoes and ran out the door.

Stan ran out in the dark to his car, starting it up as fast as he could, taking off down the street. He felt a hot tear fall. He felt so terrible.

Stan pulled into the driveway, turning off the car. He stared at his steering wheel before pressing his forehead to it. The tears began to pour.

"Craig...I'm so sorry." Stan whimpered. He hated this. He hated all of it. The cuts, the abuse from his sister, the secrets; all of it.

Stan wiped the tears and stepped out of the car. He raised his eyebrows when he noticed cars he didn't recognize in the street.

 _Oh yeah...date night._

Every month, his dad takes his mom out to a high end restaurant, shopping, and a movie if there aren't any musicals. So this means...

"I'm alone with Shelly _and_ her friends..." Stan said out loud. He had only met her friends once and they were scarier than her. They smoke a lot of pot, drink, and do drugs. He didn't like them one bit, and now he's going to be alone with them.

Stan reluctantly went up the porch steps and slowly opened the door. As he stepped inside, he could smell the booze and pot immediately. They were laughing with beers and solo cups in hand. He can tell they're all drunk, high, or both.

He believes both.

Stan put his head down as he walked towards the step before being stopped.

"Hey Shelly, is that your brother?" He heard one of them say. Stan didn't dare look up as he tried to go up the stairs, only to get stopped when he felt large hands grip his hips. Stan's eyes grew in horror when he was pulled back against somebody. He grit his teeth and swung his fist at the person behind him, narrowly missing.

"Whoa! He's a feisty one isn't he?" The man spoke. The other men approached Stan, laughing and giving him smirks. Stan felt his heart race.

"Just let me go upstairs! I won't bother you for the rest of the night, just get your hands off me!" Stan shouted, backing away towards the steps.

"What if we _want_ you to bother us?" They all snickered, taking an inch towards him again. Shelly laughed, taking a big gulp of beer before slamming it down on the coffee table.

"He's gay too, if you guys want to play with him." The two men looked at Stan with a look he didn't recognize. Stan couldn't believe what Shelly just told them. A sibling would never do that! Why did she tell them that?

One of the men cupped Stan's chin, forcing his head up. The man licked his lips as he caressed the other cheek.

"He's pretty attractive, too. This could be fun." Stan's eyes grew. So that's what they want to do with him. Stan glared at him before punching him across the cheek before taking off up the stairs.

"Dammit, there he goes!"

"Tch...little bastard." Stan could hear them say downstairs, as he ran into his room and into the closet. He hid as best he could behind coats and shoes on the other end of the closet. Not too long after, he heard his door open up and two tall figures walked into his room. Stan covered his mouth as best he could, trying to suppress his cries.

"I can't believe that little faggot punched me in the face."

"Ahhhh, it's all right, dude. Let's teach him a lesssssooonn~" He said, obviously wasted. The other man laughed.

"Hahaha! Yeah! I could use a little fuck toy tonight." Stan's eyes grew at the words he had just heard.

 _They want to..._

"Come on. Let's get the little toy something to drink." One of them replied, laughing. Stan heard the door shut and footsteps go down the stairs. Stan doesn't want to do whatever they want to him! Stan stumbled as he pulled his phone out, shaking. He needed to call someone.

Stan quickly dialed a number and put his phone up to his ear, hearing the phone ring on the other end. Stan squeezed his eyes shut, new tears streaming down his face and a hand over his mouth.

"Hello?"

"Mom...please come home."

 **xXx**

 **There it is. It's sad, I know.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I apologize for the long wait, but like I said before, my life has been hectic. But things are fine now and I will try to post another chapter before we relocate. I move on the 14** **th** **so hopefully before then there'll be a new chapter.**

 **I hope you still have interest!**

 **Love you all!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	8. Help

***Hey guys, I'm so sorry about the huge delay. We just moved to our new house and we can't get any service out there so I uploaded this from my grandma's house. I have no idea when we'll get service if we ever do but I'll be going to my friends' house more often so I can update. So to make it all up to you, I will be uploading multiple chapters this week! ENJOY! ***

 ***WARNING***

 **This chapter contains some disturbing stuff so if you can't handle that, I suggest you don't read it.**

 **xXx**

"Mom…please come home." Stan sobbed into the phone, trying to cover them with his hand but to no prevail.

"Huh? Stan, are you okay? What's going on?!" His mom said in a panic. Stan didn't have time to think.

"Shelly has friends over and they want to do something horrible to me! You need to get home, please!" Stan cried into the phone. He felt his heart race when he heard laughing coming from downstairs. He hung up on his mother and decided it'd be best to hide in his parents' closet.

Stan tried to calm himself down before he decided it'd also be a good idea to call the police. He pulled up his phone, and groaned when his phone died all of a sudden.

"Tch, son of a bitch!" Stan snarled, crawling out of the closet and tossed the phone onto the floor. He quietly made his way through his room and opened his door a little. When he was certain nobody was out there, he slipped through his door and shut it as softly as he could. He stepped backwards and he bumped into…

"I knew you were in there." He heard a deep gruff voice. Stan's eyes grew and he tried to let out a scream but a big hand covered his mouth. Stan clawed at the callused hand, trying to pry it from his face.

"Awww he's so cute when he's scared." The drunk said. He was a big guy too; about 200lbs and 6 feet tall. He was holding a red solo cup in his left hand and he had a sinister grin spread across his face.

"I've got his drink right here. Let's have some fun with him." He said, taking a few steps towards Stan and the man behind him. Stan began to scream, muffled behind the large hand. The man that held him lifted Stan off his feet and moved him into his bedroom, throwing him down onto the bed.

"All right, kid. Drink this up." The drunk said, giving Stan a disgusting grin. The man that was holding him in place took his hand off of Stan's mouth and he screamed as loud as he could.

"SHELLY! HELP! HELmmm" his cries were muffled again when the man placed his hand back over Stan's mouth.

"If you don't do what we say and be quiet, we will beat you to a pulp, rape you until your unconscious, and then sell you to some perverts. Got it? Now drink." Stan started to cry again, his tears soaking the man's hands. The drunk man stepped forward, and after Stan's mouth was free, forcefully pushed Stan's head back and the man behind him plugged up his nose, making him open his mouth. They put the cup to Stan's lips and poured the alcoholic beverage into his mouth, causing Stan to choke. After the cup was emptied, the drunk man threw his cup aside and stood up straight. He grinned as he began to unbuckle his pants.

"I'm first." He said, unzipping his zipper. Stan shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut as the man behind him began to touch Stan, pushing his large hand up Stan's shirt and to his chest. Stan jolted when the man pinched a nipple and both of them laughed.

"Hurry it up. I'm fucking horny." The man behind Stan said, tightening his hold on Stan's arms to keep him still. The one in front of him knelt down to Stan's eye level, smiling as he brushed his lips across Stan's cheeks and placing a small kiss on his right eye lid. Stan looked up at the man pleadingly. He didn't want to endure anything these men had planned for him.

Just then there was a knock on the bedroom door and it opened, she looked at Stan disgustingly and then laughed.

"I honestly don't know what you see in him, but whatever, as long as you guys are paying me for it. Make it quick, though. I don't know when my parents are going to be back. And make sure you don't mark him anywhere they would notice." She said, shutting the door without saying a word. Stan's tears came down harder then.

 _Shelly paid these men to rape me?_

"Don't worry about it! We'll be quick and you'll have your money!" The man in front of him said, grinning as he looked back down at Stan. He got closer to Stan as he pulled out his penis, bringing it closer to Stan's mouth.

"Suck." He said bluntly. The hand was once again removed from Stan's mouth and the man that stood before him brushed his head over Stan's lips.

Stan began to open his mouth when he heard the front door slam open and everyone downstairs screamed.

"Get the hell out of our house!" he heard his mom yell and loud footsteps coming for the door. Stan's bedroom door flew open and Randy stood there, shocked at first when he saw his son about to get molested, but then livid.

"You perverted son of a-" he couldn't even finish his sentence before he punched the man in the face. Almost on cue, two police officers came up and took the two men in handcuffs, leading them out of the room. Stan sat there, feeling dizzy from the drink.

"Stan. Are you okay, Son? Stan?" Stan felt his dad take him into his arms before Stan blacked out completely.

xXxXxXxXx

Stan remembered some but not all of it. He remembered his dad carrying him down the steps and putting him in the car. He also remembered his mom talking to him.

"Stan! Stay awake, honey. We're almost at the hospital!"

 _Hospital? What?_

Stan felt confused, tired, and scared. He had no idea what was wrong with him and he was almost sexually assaulted. Despite all that, there's only one thing he can't get out of his head.

"Craig….Craig…" Stan mumbled. He couldn't get Craig out of his head. His vision was blurry and his eyes were heavy, but he could still see the big red EMERGENCY sign. Stan closed his eyes and fell asleep.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Stan woke up, staring at the white hospital ceiling. He let his vision focus before looking around the room, noticing his parents were outside the hospital room talking to the doctor. The morning sun shined through the curtains and into Stan's eyes. He lifted his arm to block the light and then slowly sat up. He stretched and little pops could be heard going up his back.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned before realizing something. He lifted the sheets and froze. He's in the hospital gown. That means...

 _Did the doctor and nurses notice my cuts?_

The door opened up and his parents stepped through with the doctor and even Shelly beside them. The last person he wanted to see was Shelly.

His mom walked over and gave Stan a kiss on the cheek before sitting down. She looked like she had been crying while his dad looked as white as a ghost. He had a feeling something is wrong.

"All right, Stanley. To start, you've been drugged with Rufilin, which is also known as the date rape drug. We kept you here over night for the side effects to ware off but luckily the men that drugged you didn't get too far." He said, giving Stan a sympathetic smile before sitting down in a stool. He scooted closer to the bed and gave Stan a serious look.

"Now, I'm going to ask you some serious questions and it is very important that you answer them honestly, okay? Are you going to be 100% honest with me, Stan?" Stan raised an eye brow before looking at his parents. His mom had started crying again while his dad did the best to comfort her. Stan looked back at the doctor and nodded.

"Yes. I will." Stan said. The doctor gave another small smile.

"Good. Well, to start, how are you emotionally? Are you depressed?" He asked. Stan felt his heart drop. _So they did notice._ Stan didn't know what to say.

"Umm…" The doctor sighed and leaned forward on his elbows, obviously serious.

"The reason I'm asking you this, Stanley, is because we found…a lot of cuts on your thighs." Stan's eyes grew before he looked down at his lap shamefully. After a minute of silence the doctor put his hand on top of Stan's.

"Stan, trust me. You're not the only one. I deal with kids that self-harm all the time. I just need to know how long you've been cutting yourself and how serious your depression is."

Stan sighed and realized there was no way out of this. Without looking back up at the doctor Stan answered his question.

"I've been cutting myself since I was ten or twelve. I don't remember." Stan said, honestly. The doctor looked back at his clip board.

"It says here that you cut your arms once before and was diagnosed with chronic depression. You even got prescription medicine for it, but you're not taking it are you?" The doctor said, looking back at Stan. Stan shook his head.

"Why aren't you taking it?" The doctor asked, crossing his arms.

"Because the medicine makes me dizzy and I can't quit football so I stopped taking it." The doctor sighed and shook his head.

"Stan, your health is more important than football. You know that don't you?" Stan nodded his head again, feeling tears form at the corner of his eyes.

"How bad is your depression? And please, for your sake, be honest with me." The doctor said, leaning forward again. Stan looked back up, a tear falling down his cheek. He wiped it with the back of his hand and, once again, decided it was no use lying to this man.

"I…I don't want to live." Stan said. His mom began to wail and she left the room to cry and his dad followed while the doctor put a hand on Stan's shoulder. Stan looked back at the doctor with more tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Don't worry, Stanley. We're going to fix this, okay? I just have one more question though." Stan nodded, indicating he could continue.

"Who is Craig?" Stan's eyes grew wide.

"W-why?" Stan asked. The doctor gave a small chuckle.

"Oh it's just, when you got here last night that's all you said was 'Craig' and I was just wondering if this Craig person is someone you depend on the most." The doctor said. Stan didn't say anything. He couldn't. The doctor lost his smile and got serious again.

"I also need to let you know that, because your depression is so serious and you cutting yourself excessively like that, you need to spend seventy two hours in the psychiatric hospital. I'll let you know right now that we don't think you're crazy, you just need to be monitored at all times since we know now how serious this is. You're parents already know, so you won't be leaving the hospital for another three days." Stan felt his heart drop. He was going to spend three days with people who are seriously nuts? He started to cry again at the news.

After talking to the doctor a little while longer, Stan was moved to the psychiatric section of the hospital, which immediately felt like a completely different hospital. They even put him in a different hospital gown. This one was closed in the back like an actual night gown, it was pure white and it had short sleeves. The gown itself was huge on Stan as far as width goes, but the length was okay since it fell just below his knees.

The nurses led Stan, Shelly, and his parents through the hall and passed people who looked generally insane. Apparently Stan is going to be with other suicidal patients but even they look nuts.

When they made it to his room, Stan's face dropped. There was nothing in there but a small white desk, bed, and nightstand with a light blue lamp sitting on top of it. The room was also extremely small but not small enough to be considered a prison cell. There was also a bathroom without a lock for obvious reasons.

Stan didn't want to be there.

His mom gave him a big hug and kissed three times on the cheek.

"I love you so so much baby." She said, tearing up again. His dad gave Stan a hug too telling him they'll visit him tomorrow. Stan started to cry.

"Please, Dad…Mom…I don't want to be here. I want to go home." Stan spoke between sobs. His dad put his hands on Stan's slender shoulders and looked his son in the eyes.

"You can't, Stan. You need to stay here for three days to get better. We want you to get help, okay? We don't want you to….end your life." His dad choked up at the last part, a tear falling. This was the first time he has ever seen his father cry. Stan wanted to tell him Shelly was the cause of all of this, but she was right there, trying not to laugh.

The nurse led his parents out of the room, and the doctor led Stan the opposite direction to talk to a counselor.

Stan felt just as scared and alone there as he felt at home, so this shouldn't be so bad, right?

…right?

 **xXx**

 **There it is! Expect a new one sometime tomorrow! I hope you all enjoyed!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	9. My Name Is Stan Marsh

**Before you get to reading, I just want you to know that I gave the doctor from the last chapter a name! So no need to be confused! :)**

 **xXx**

Stan sat still in his bed, staring down at his thighs that were covered in scars. This was the first full day he was in the psychiatric ward and it'll be the second time he talks to his counselor.

His counselor was a young woman, around the age of 25. She had long, curly, blonde hair that reached the small of her back and she had dark blue eyes. Her eyes were almost the same color as his own, only his were usually brighter. He had noticed, though, that his eyes looked significantly dull ever since he came to the hospital; not only his eyes, but his hair too. His skin was already pale, but now it was as if he had no skin tone what-so-ever.

Stan stood up and took a few steps towards his mirror that was hanging on the wall in his room. He put his hand on his cheek and leaned in closer with his left hand against the wall supporting his weight. He sighed.

 _I'm a walking corpse._

 _KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

Startled, Stan pushed himself away from his mirror and turned towards the door as it slowly opened, revealing his doctor, Doctor Bradford, and his young counselor, Doctor Katrina Nichols.

"Hello, Stanley. Are you ready for group?" Katrina said, giving Stan a smile. Stan didn't return one, though, when he noticed his doctor holding a cup.

As soon as his parents left yesterday, his doctor took him to meet his counselor, and then after that Doctor Bradford prescribed him a new medication. He made it clear to Stan that he is to take it every morning and he cannot skip his medications or stop taking them all together anymore. The new medication is prescribed only in psychiatric hospitals so they are significantly stronger, but his doctor told him this particular drug shouldn't make Stan feel dizzy or strange in any way.

Doctor Bradford took a step towards Stan and handed him the cup that contained water. Stan held out an open palm and his doctor placed a round white pill in his hand. He popped the pill in his mouth and then drank the water down to the last drop. Stan looked up at his doctor again and gave him the cup.

"All right, Stan. Today is your first day at group. You'll be with kids around your age who struggle with suicidal thoughts, self-harm, and depression so don't be afraid to talk about you're problems, okay?" Doctor Bradford said, opening the door for both Stan and Katrina. Stan walked down the hallway in between his doctor and counselor making sure to keep his distance from the other patients. A lot of the patients looked a little terrifying so he didn't want to be close to them.

Doctor Bradford walked them to the group counseling room before walking in the other direction. Katrina looked down at Stan and motioned him inside to sit with the other patients. Stan looked up once he was inside and frowned. This was his least favorite thing to do. He hated talking to others about his feelings. The only person he ever really opened up to was Craig, and he has no intentions of talking to anyone else about his problems.

Stan sat down at the circle next to his counselor and stared at the floor. He really doesn't want to be there but he has no choice.

Katrina sat her clipboard down in her lap and folded her hands, giving everyone a smile. She introduced Stan to the group, and everyone said hello to him. Stan glanced up a little, giving them a quick crooked smile before staring down at the floor again.

"All right" Katrina spoke, not losing her smile "how about we go down the line, introduce yourselves to Stan here, and share to everyone how long you've been here and why." Katrina looked over at Stan and patted him on the shoulder. "For now, you can sit and listen, okay? I don't want to force you to speak if you don't want to, but you'll have to tomorrow, okay?" She said reassuringly. Stan nodded and looked up at the person who began to speak. Katrina was right when she said they're the same age group. The kid talking looked like he was about sixteen years old, so maybe about a year younger than him.

As he sat and listened to their stories, he realized that Katrina was also right about them being similar to Stan. Nearly everyone in that group was in the psychiatric hospital because of self-mutilation.

After the session was over, Stan stood slowly while Katrina spoke to him, telling him he did a good job listening. Stan smiled and looked over at the door where his doctor came in.

"Stan. You have some visitors. I'll walk you to the visiting area." He said, putting his hand on Stan's back as he walked him down the hall. The visiting area looked similar to a cafeteria, only the chairs were a lot more comfortable with cushioning and the tables were small but round.

Stan felt a mixture of emotions when he saw his friends sitting around the table. He didn't know what to feel. Kyle looked at him and stood up, jogging over to Stan. He threw his arms around him, bringing him into a hug before he separated them but kept a grip on Stan's shoulders.

"Stan…oh my god, are you okay? What happened?" Kyle spoke frantically. Stan placed a small cold hand over Kyle's warm one.

"I'm fine, Kyle." He said, walking over to the table. Stan took a seat and looked up at Doctor Bradford, thanking him. After Doctor Bradford left, Stan looked back at his friends. Kenny and Butters were there too, and thankfully Cartman wasn't present for this.

"Where's Cartman?" Stan asked out of curiosity. Kyle laughed.

"Dude, did you _want_ here for this?" he asked humorously. Stan giggled.

"No, I was just curious." Stan replied, folding his arms in front of him on the table. Kenny put his cheek in his hand and gave a small laugh.

"Well Fatass is still at school. We snuck out during lunch to come talk to you." Kenny replied. Butters smiled sympathetically at Stan.

"We heard you were here because you cut yourself." Stan stared at Butters, then at his other two friends. He was startled when he felt his gown sliding up his thigh and looked over at Kyle staring at his scars.

"Oh my god, Stan….how long have you been…" Kyle had tears go down his face at this point. Stan looked down shamefully.

"Since I was about ten or eleven. I don't know." Stan didn't dare to look up. He can't stand to see Kyle cry.

"Why did you do that to yourself? Is your depression so bad you can't talk to me about?" Stan felt a little bit of anger boil up in him.

"No I couldn't, Kyle! You were always with Kenny making sure he was okay, and the last time I told you about my problems you called me a pussy and told me to man up!" Stan said, not looking away from Kyle this time. Kyle looked genuinely confused.

"When did I say that? I don't remember ever saying that to you." Kyle said. Stan didn't let up. Years of feelings repressed were coming out and Stan couldn't stop it.

"When I was eight I told you guys about my sister beating me up all the time. I begged you guys to come over and be with me so I didn't have to be alone with her, but you called me a pussy and told me to man up. Then you guys laughed at me! She never stopped the beatings, Kyle. She broke my back throwing me down the stairs, she caught me on fire, ran me over with a lawnmower; and that was all from when I was little! Now I can't even walk through the door without her bashing my face into the door frame!" Stan began to cry, but he couldn't stop talking. They needed to know everything, and Stan isn't about to let up.

"The reason I never told you about any of it is because I was scared. I was scared that you would continue to belittle me and call me a pussy so I kept it to myself. I didn't think anyone would believe my sister would do all that to me. I started cutting myself as a way to numb all of my pain. I decided a long time ago that I would hide myself from you guys. In truth….you don't really know me." Stan paused and Kyle was speechless.

"What do you mean we don't really know you, Stan? You're a football star at school and you can get any girl you want." Kenny said, obviously trying to help Stan realize he was loved outside of the confines of his home. Stan laughed.

"No…I hate football. I hate it. I only play it because my dad loves his reputation of being the father of a high school football star. It's all an act." Kyle, Kenny, and even Butters looked shocked to hear Stan hated football, but Stan wasn't finished.

"It's not like I can't get any girl I want, but the thing is…I _don't_ want to. That's another thing. I'm gay." Stan looked up when he heard a few gasps. Kyle was beginning to look a little angry.

"Stan, you should _talk_ to me about these things! I know what I said back then was extremely wrong, but that was a long time ago! I was just a dumb kid that didn't understand the severity of what your sister was doing to you! I don't want you to feel like you need to hide yourself. Stan, I love you, okay? And if you were hiding all of this for our sake, you need to take a good look around. You're in a psychiatric hospital, Stan! Please…" Kyle began to cry again as he pulled Stan into himself, holding him. Stan reluctantly wrapped his slender arms around Kyle too.

"Please…Stan…I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to do something stupid, okay? I'm so sorry about what I said. I didn't understand at the time, okay? Now I'm here. Talk to me and let me help you. I know I help Kenny out a lot, but right now, if my super best friend is in the hospital for self-mutilation and suicidal thoughts, you're the one who needs help." Kyle pulled away and wiped his tears on the back of his hand before looking back at Stan.

"Don't keep things from me anymore, Stan." Stan felt a tear go down his cheek. That's exactly what he's been wanting to hear from Kyle for years, and it felt amazing to let all of that go and off his chest. He hasn't felt this good in a very long time.

"One question though." Kenny said, looking at Stan in confusion. Stan and Kyle both looked at Kenny.

"How do your parents not know about Shelly doing this to you?" Kyle and Butters looked at Stan, as if they had the same question on their minds. Stan leaned back in his chair.

"Shelly pulls off this 'perfect little angel' act for my parents. And every time they ask me how I got bruises or something, I have to come up with an excuse."

"So why can't you tell your parents when Shelly isn't around?" Butters asked. Stan shook his head.

"It's not as easy for me. I'm scared of what she might do to me if I told them she's the one who hurts me." Kyle stared at Stan and sighed.

"Stan, she's the number one reason why you're here in the first place. We want you to get better, and I know you want that too. But that can't happen if you don't do something about Shelly. Your parents deserve to know the truth." Stan looked at Kyle and glanced back down at the table, furrowing his eyebrows a bit. He was right. Kyle was absolutely right. If he wants to get better for himself, his friends, family, and Craig, he owes it to all of them to tell his parents the truth so they could maybe take care of Shelly.

…maybe.

"But…" Stan started, "what if they don't believe me? What if they-"

 _SLAM_

Stan, Kyle, and Butters jumped when Kenny slammed his fist against the table.

"Kenny?" Kyle and Butters said in concern. Kenny shook his head.

"No, Stan. You _have_ to tell them! Don't think they won't believe you because they will, okay?!" Kenny shouted, staring at Stan.

"I know what you were about to say. You were about to say 'what if I deserved it' or 'what if they think it's my fault'. It's not your fault and you didn't deserve it, all right? I know for sure that they will believe you." Kyle and Butters stared at Kenny and then looked back at Stan, giving him a smile.

"Kenny's right, Stan. They'll believe you." Butters said. Stan nodded.

"Okay. I'll tell them when I get the chance." Stan said, before they were interrupted by a nurse coming in, telling them they're visiting time was up. They all stood and hugged Stan close, telling him everything will be okay.

Stan felt confident now. He doesn't have to hide himself anymore and he doesn't have to repress his feelings.

His last day in the hospital, Stan sat in the same chair he was in the first day of group. Katrina looked at Stan after giving the usual introduction.

"Do you want to start, Stanley?" She asked. Stan gave a nod and folded his hands in his lap. He looked up at the others, still a little nervous. He doesn't need to hide anymore.

"My name is Stan Marsh…"

Stan started off saying his name, and he told the other patients everything he could. He told them how he felt forced to play a sport he hated, he felt isolated and alone because he was hiding himself from his friends, and he met someone that saved his life, and that he may have fallen in love with.

 **xXx**

 **Yay! Another chapter as promised! Expect another chapter sometime tomorrow night or Saturday morning! I'll be at my friends' house!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	10. This Ends Here

**I just wanted to start off by saying that I know at the end of last chapter I said Saturday morning, I meant Sunday. Lolololololol (** **ﾉ◕ヮ◕** **)** **ﾉ** ***:** **･ﾟ✧**

 **xXx**

Stan sat back in the car seat staring out the window. He's been looking forward to coming back home ever since his first night in the hospital, but he couldn't get Shelly out of his head. He didn't tell his parents about Shelly and he doesn't know when he's going to tell them. Ever since he got his phone back from Doctor Bradford, Kyle hasn't stopped bugging him about it.

Stan felt his phone vibrate in his hand, thinking it's Kyle. He noticed it wasn't Kyle, it was Craig.

 _Stan? I heard you were in the psychiatric hospital. Are you okay? I need to talk to you._ _ **–Craig**_

Stan felt his heart thump in his chest. That's right. He needed to tell Craig how he felt. Stan sighed heavily, bringing his phone up to his face.

 _I'm on my way home now. I'll come over and we can talk when I get the chance._ _ **–Stan**_

 _No. I'm coming over. I'll be there in a little bit._ _ **–Craig**_

Stan sighed again, knowing it's no use. Craig is a stubborn bastard. Even if he told Craig not to come, he was going to come anyways.

They pulled into the driveway and Randy opened up the trunk, grabbing Stan's stuff. Stan got out, rubbing his arm and staring at the ground. Randy rubbed his back and ruffled his hair, smiling down at him before going inside.

Once inside, Stan grabbed a pair of black sweats, a t shirt, and a clean pair of boxers before jumping in the shower. He stood underneath the hot water, letting it hit his back and run down his chest. He ran his hands through his wet hair and then grabbed some soap.

Stan squeezed the contents into his palm and started to lather his skin in soapy suds. He ran his hands up his arms and down his chest and his sides. He stopped at the top of his thighs, brushing his fingertips over his scars. Stan shook his head and continued to rub the soap over his thighs.

Stan washed his hair and shaved before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower. He ran his hand over the foggy mirror to make it clear again and paused at his reflection. He stared at his skinny, pale body.

"Oh my god…" Stan whispered. He immediately got on the scale to check his weight, and was shocked when he saw that he went from 126lbs to 115. Stan sighed before stepping off the scale. He shouldn't be shocked since he refused to eat anything while he was in the hospital. Stan grabbed a towel from the towel rack and dried off his body and hair before hearing a knock at the door.

"Stanley?" Stan grabbed his boxers and slipped them on before acknowledging his mom at the bathroom door.

"What mom?" Stan called, voice cracking a little bit.

"Craig is here. He said he'll be in your room." Stan put his lowered the shirt he grabbed from the counter and shook his head, pulling the shirt on over his head.

"Okay Mom. I'll be out in a minute." Stan said, spreading his arms out noticing how big his shirt was on him. He then grabbed his sweat pants and had to tighten them to hell in order for them to stay on his hips.

Stan opened up the bathroom door and walked across the hallway into his bedroom. He opened up his bedroom door and Craig stood up from Stan's bed, staring at Stan. He walked over to Stan and put his hand behind him, shutting his bedroom door but not taking his hand away. Stan looked up at Craig, leaning his back up against the door.

Craig didn't look away from Stan as he took his free hand and placed it on the side of Stan's neck, caressing him. Stan put his hand over top Craig's and leaned his head against his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. Craig took the opportunity to lean down and pressed their lips together, pressing Stan up against the door. They moved their lips together before Craig slowly pulled away and moved to Stan's ear, kissing the spot just below his ear on his neck. Stan gave a little moan and wrapped his slender arms around Craig's shoulders and returning the small kiss on Craig's neck. Craig sighed into Stan's neck.

"I would've come to visit but I didn't find out till this morning that you were in the hospital." He said, running his hands down Stan's sides feeling his small frame before resting them on his hips. Stan pulled away to look at Craig and smiled.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Stan asked in somewhat of a whisper. Craig grabbed a hold of Stan's hands and pulled him towards the bed, sitting down. Craig didn't take his eyes off of Stan as he held his hands.

"I wanted to tell you a couple of things. The first thing is I wanted to say I'm sorry about the other day. I didn't mean to go that far." He said, looking down at Stan's hands. Stan pulled them away and brought them up to his chest, rubbing them.

"Actually, Craig, it's not that you went too far, it's just….well….there's something that I didn't want you to see." Stan said, standing up. Craig looked at Stan in confusion as Stan loosened the waistband of his sweat pants. Before he dropped his pants, Stan looked back at Craig.

"Don't freak out, okay?" Stan said, as he dropped his sweat pants around his ankles. His boxers covered up most of thighs so he couldn't show Craig completely. Craig reached over and grabbed Stan's wrist, bringing him close. He brushed his fingertips down his sides and hips towards the front of his thighs before he pushed his boxers up a little, revealing his scars completely.

Before Stan could respond, Craig stood up and grabbed Stan by the hips to force him down onto the bed. Stan stared up in confusion before Craig took Stan's lips. Stan opened his mouth a bit, accepting Craig's tongue. Craig swirled his tongue with Stan's before letting go, moving down and planting kisses over Stan's clothes. He made it to Stan's thighs and pushed his boxers up, kissing the scars.

As he placed kisses on Stan's thighs, Craig pulled his boxers down and slipped them off his legs. Stan sat up on his elbows, startled.

"C-Craig? What are you doing?"

Craig didn't reply as he sat up in between Stan's now spread legs. He pulled his shirt up over his head before leaning back down, giving Stan a passionate kiss. Craig pulled away to look at Stan, running his hands through his slightly damp hair.

"You should've told me." Craig said in a low monotone voice before pressing his lips to Stan's again. Stan moaned into the kiss, moving his hands down towards the waist band of Craig's jeans. Craig sat back up, looking around. Stan looked up quizzically.

"What's wrong?" Stan asked. Craig looked back down at Stan.

"Do you have any lotion?" Craig asked. Stan blushed a deep red before sitting up on his elbows.

"Uh…"

"If you don't want to have sex we don't have to." Craig said. Stan shook his head.

"No I want to. I think there's some in my nightstand." Stan leaned over and pulled out a tube of lotion, handing it to Craig. Craig took it and coated his finger with the lotion while Stan lied back watching him.

"Try to relax." Craig said, leaning down and pressing a finger against Stan's entrance. Stan's breath hitched. They were really going to do this. Stan is going to have sex with Craig.

Stan let out a moan when Craig pushed a finger inside of him. Stan quickly covered his mouth with his hand to try to suppress his moans. Craig began to stretch Stan further and deeper before pulling them out. The sound of Craig's zipper filled the room as Craig pushed his pants down further. Stan looked at Craig and his eyes grew slightly when he pulled out his penis.

 _He's huge…_

Craig scooted forward and grabbed Stan's legs, spreading them further apart before pressing his tip against Stan's hole.

"Are you ready?" Craig asked. Stan nodded and squeezed his eyes shut as he finally pushed in. Stan moaned loudly behind his hand and clawed Craig's arm. Craig grunted when he was as deep inside as he can get. He hovered over Stan, starting up a reasonable but fast pace. With each thrust, Stan moans began to lessen slightly as it was not as painful.

Craig sat up and grabbed a hold of Stan's hardened dick and began to pump.

"Nng! C-Craig!" Stan moaned out behind his hand. Craig began to quicken his pace, thrusting deeper and deeper into Stan. Stan wrapped his legs around Craig's waist while jerking backward fast and hard from the animalistic force.

Stan could feel a familiar pressure and gripped the bed sheets, bracing for his release. He tried to warn Craig but his warnings only came out in muffled cries.

"Craig!..I'm…" Stan couldn't finish as he came in Craig's hand. Craig smirked and let go of Stan's now half soft penis to focus on his thrust. He grabbed Stan's legs and put them over his shoulders so he could go in deeper.

"Ah!...Craig…" Stan moaned, biting into his hand. Craig continued to thrust hard and fast into Stan before he could feel pressure as well. He gritted his teeth, releasing inside of him.

Craig pulled out of him and collapsed on top of him, feeling Stan's sweaty form beneath him. He wrapped his arms around Stan, kissing him on the temple. Stan and Craig lied there for a while before they both decided it'd be a good idea to get dressed before Stan's parents came in. Stan stood up and pulled sweat pants and boxers back on before sitting on the edge of his bed next to Craig.

"Craig? I wanted to tell you something." Stan said, looking at Craig.

"Hmm?" Craig hmm'd. Stan sighed.

"Um…What are we?" Craig laughed before pecking Stan on the cheek.

"That's a pretty stupid question considering what we just did." Stan chuckled, nuzzling into Craig's chest. Craig wrapped his arm around Stan while the other one was underneath his head.

"I think we should get dressed before my parents come in." Stan replied, sitting up and grabbing his boxers from the floor. He stood up and when he did he felt a Craig pat him on the butt before zipping up his pants. Stan turned towards Craig with a red face. He was about to say something when he heard a knock on the door.

Stan panicked and pulled on his sweatpants and tied them before he responded to the person behind his door.

"What?" Stan called. The door opened and his mom came in with her purse in hand and Randy standing at her side.

"We're going to pick up something for dinner. Craig, are you staying for dinner?" She said, looking at Craig. Craig turned to Stan, almost asking if it was okay.

"Yeah he is, but what about Shelly? She's going with you, right?" Stan asked, obviously worried Craig would see Shelly kick his ass. Plus, Stan _really_ did not want to be near Shelly after what happened five days ago. She was going to pissed that Stan called his parents.

"No, honey, Shelly is grounded in her room so she won't be coming with us. We'll be back in a little bit." Sharron replied, kissing Stan on the forehead. Stan waved goodbye before he started to panic again.

"Oh god she's probably really pissed off…" Stan replied, fidgety. Craig raised a brow and gave Stan a questionable look.

"Why would they leave you alone with her if they knew you were being abused by her?" Stan froze. He didn't mention anything to his parents about what Shelly was really like.

"Umm…I didn't tell them yet." Craig's eyes slowly widened before he put his forehead in his hand. Shelly was probably pissed, and Craig doesn't want anything to happen to Stan.

"Don't worry, Stan. I'm here with you. I won't let her do anything to you, okay?" Just as Craig said that, Stan's door opened and Shelly was in the doorway. She had no makeup on and her hair was disheveled. Her eyes were wide and filled with anger and hatred. She basically looked like she's gone nuts.

Stan stood up off the bed and Craig stepped forward, guarding Stan with his life. Whatever Shelly decided to dish out, Craig will give it right back. There's no way in Hell he's going to let Shelly hurt Stan again.

"Hey. Step away from my bitch of a brother." She said in a low gruff voice. Stan was scared, not for his own safety, but for Craig's.

Craig stayed still and firm, not letting down. Stan was about to say something when Shelly started to charge forward, pushing Craig so hard he was almost knocked off his feet. Stan screamed Craig's name before Shelly grabbed a hold of Stan's hair and begun to drag him out of the room and into the hallway and towards the top of the staircase.

Craig immediately got his balance back and raced towards the door. He was close to grabbing Stan's arm, but he was too short before Shelly threw Stan down the Stairs. Stan tumbled and cried before hitting the floor with a loud thud. Shelly came down the staircase and was about to grab Stan again when Craig threw a punch, hitting her right in the cheek. She fell to the floor but got back, directing her hatred and anger towards Craig.

"Hey…you're going to hurt a girl?" She said, wiping the blood from her mouth. Craig glared daggers at her while guarding Stan.

"You hurt Stan more." Craig's voice was deeper than it normally is and filled with venom. Stan glanced up, still disoriented and back hurting from the fall. He noticed Craig's hands were balled into fists so tight his knuckles turned white.

 _Craig…don't be stupid. Please don't fight her._ Stan thought. He wanted to cry out to him, but he had no time to before Shelly lunged forward, punching Craig in the cheek. Craig immediately threw one back and the two began to fight right in the middle of the living room. While the two fought, Stan tried to get up but he couldn't.

"Shelly…Please stop…please…" Stan cried and couldn't get his voice to vocalize. His vision started to blur as his tears began to fall. He doesn't want Craig to get hurt. This was Stan's problem, not Craig's.

Stan's eyes widened in horror when he heard a crash and cried when he saw Craig had been pushed onto the glass coffee table. Craig isn't moving.

 _No…_

 _NO!_

 _Not Craig! I'm sick of this…you always get your way. You ruined my childhood. You're the reason for my mental illnesses. You're the reason I wanted to end my life._

 _This ends here._

Stan stood up, wobbling a little before he found his balance. He glared Shelly down, hands balled into fists.

"Shelly!" Stan roared, getting Shelly's attention. She turned towards him and had a look of surprise when she noticed the anger in Stan's face and eyes.

"You can do whatever the hell you want to me, but don't you _dare_ hurt Craig!" Stan screamed at her before he lunged forward, vision going red.

 **xXx**

 **Things are getting heated now :D I don't have any idea when the next chapter will be up, but the multiple chapters throughout the week was fun! Tiring and stressful, but fun :)**

 **So for now, be patient! We have two more chapters to go!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	11. I'll Never Let You Go

All he could see is red. Nothing mattered to him other than the fact that Shelly had hurt Craig. Nobody hurts Craig.

 _Nobody._

Stan felt someone wrapping their arms around his waist and lifted him up and off of Shelly. He cried and clawed at the arms that were wrapped around him.

"NO! I HATE YOU, SHELLY!"

Stan couldn't hear anything. He looked down at Shelly with hatred as she sat up and wiped the blood away from her nose. Stan smirked when he saw the black eye that was starting to form around her eye.

"Stanley! What the FUCK do you think you're doing hurting your sister?!" His mother hollered at him. Stan was set down by what turned out to be his dad who also looked mad. Stan couldn't believe it. _HE's_ the one in trouble.

"But Mom, she-"

"No but's Stanley! You know to not hit your sister! You don't hit girls, Stan!" Stan began to get angry at this point. He looked over at Craig who was sitting on the couch, glaring at his dad. Stan learned from Craig not to hold anything in.

"AFTER EVERYTHING SHE FUCKING DID TO ME?! Shelly set me on fucking FIRE! She ran me over with fucking LAWN MOWER! SHE LOCKED ME IN THE BASEMENT, PUSHED ME DOWN THE STAIRS, THREW ME OUT WINDOWS; and I'M the one in trouble?!" Stan began pulling at his hair and started to cry. He couldn't believe that his parents were protecting the abuser.

"Not only that, but SHE'S the reason I cut myself! She tells me I'm worthless every fucking day! She tells me that if I just KILLED myself, everyone's lives would be easier! She told her friends to RAPE me, for Christ's sakes! And you're not going to punish her for ANY OF THAT?! BECAUSE SHE A GIRL?!" Stan continued to cry more when he felt himself getting pulled into Craig's arms. He could feel Craig shaking with anger.

Or was that Stan?

Randy and Sharron turned towards Shelly with shock and disbelief. "Shelly, is this true?" They asked.

"Of COURSE not! Stan is just crazy! You guys need to put him back in that hospital!" Stan snapped his head back up, but before he could say anything Craig butted in.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ABUSIVE WHORE! I KNOW what you do to Stan! I've fucking SEEN it. You tried to beat him right in front of me before I fucking got into it! How can you live with yourself, Shelly? Really, how? How can you live with yourself, especially after you tried to get your own little brother raped? You deserve to fucking rot in prison, you narcissistic little bitch." Stan buried his face in Craig's shirt, feeling more tears fall down his cheeks.

"Craig, take Stan home with you, okay? We need time to talk to Shelly and I don't think Stan should be here if she's going to hurt him." Randy spoke low under his breath, hands trembling at his sides. He looked up at Craig, and then down to Stan who is still crying in Craig's chest. He walked over to his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. Stan turned towards his dad who took Stan into his arms for a hug.

"You go to Craig's while your mother and I do something about Shelly, okay? If they need you we'll call." He said, releasing him. Stan wiped his tears away before him and Craig grabbed their stuff. Stan grabbed extra pairs of clothes and sighed heavily. He needed sleep bad.

"Do you have everything?" Craig asked. Stan nodded before his eyes caught shiny metal. His razor blade was still sitting in the same spot Stan threw it. He looked over at Craig who was busy grabbing Stan's binder and books, putting them in his school bag. Stan crawled over to his razor blade and grabbed it before he quickly put it in a small pocket of his smaller bag. Craig grabbed Stan's school bag and gave Stan his normal blank expression.

"Ready?" Craig asked, opening the door. Stan nodded, walking out the door with Craig. Stan felt numb. Not happy. Not scared. Not angry. Just numb.

As they walked out the door, Stan remembered that his dad said 'they'. Who is _they?_

Duh…

 _They_ are the police.

Craig opened up the passenger side car door for Stan, helping him into the car. Stan muttered a soft "Thank you" before Craig shut the door. He got into the driver seat, throwing Stan's stuff in the back before starting up the car and heading down the street towards the Tucker residence. He didn't know what to say. He took a quick glance over at Stan, giving a small smile of sympathy. Stan was staring down at his feet not looking up. Craig felt terrible for Stan. He doesn't deserve the abuse his sister put him through. He deserved better. He needs to know what love is.

With that thought in mind, Craig put a hand on Stan's thigh. He felt the soft fabric where his skinny jeans were ripped in the thighs and knees. Stan snapped his head up and looked at the hand that landed on his thigh. Stan gave himself a small smile, placing his small hand over Craig's larger one. The car ride was silent. Stan felt like he needed to say something. There was only one thing he needed to say.

"Craig. I'm sorry about…my sister. I never wanted you to go through all that." Stan said, still not looking up. Craig left out a hefty sigh and gripped Stan's small hand.

" _You_ shouldn't be sorry for anything. I didn't want her to beat you. I'd rather take a few punches to the face than see you getting beaten to a fucking pulp." Craig pulled into the driveway and put his car in park before he got out of the car. "We can talk about that when we get inside." Craig grabbed Stan's stuff from the back seat and closed his door shut before grabbing Stan's hand again and leading him to the backyard. They got to the top of the staircase and Craig gave a smirk. He remembers the first time Stan came over and Craig learned he was terrified of staircases. He lead Stan down the steps to the basement apartment.

Stan sat down on the couch and took off his sweat shirt. He looked down sadly at the little cuts that were on his arms. He rubbed his thighs where the real mess was, feeling guilty. Why would Craig choose him of all people? Stan was a mess. He didn't deserve someone as caring as Craig when he does something as selfish as cutting. He looked over at his backpack, specifically the small pocket where he secretly put his razor blade in. He wanted to cut again. He felt so guilty.

Craig looked over at Stan staring sadly at his thighs. He felt his heart drop when he remembered the scars that spread across his thighs like spider webs. He walked over to Stan and grabbed his face, giving him a small but passionate kiss. When he released he wiped a tear away with his thumb and gave his new boyfriend the warmest smile he could.

"I don't want you to feel guilty, okay? You're going to be okay from now on as long as I'm there to be your shield." He pulled Stan into a hug, feeling Stan wrap his thin arms gently around him. After a few minutes, he let go and kissed him on the lips again.

"I'm going to jump in the shower. I'll be right back, okay?" He kissed him on the cheek before leaving the room and grabbing his boxers and a pair of sweats. He looked back at Stan, who was watching him. Craig gave him a smile before shutting the bathroom door.

 _Why was Stan watching me? That was….odd._

Normally Craig wouldn't think anything of it, but that seems suspicious to him in some way.

After Stan watched Craig disappear behind the bathroom door, he looked at his bag again. Was this really a good idea? What if Craig notices? He's bound to notice, he's not stupid.

 _But I need some sort of relief…_

Stan felt his body reacting on its own, moving off the couch and crawling over to his bag. He unzipped the small pocket and took out the cold sharp metal. He stood up, taking off his skinny jeans before sitting back down. With one leg extended and one leg pulled up for better access, Stan placed the blade over his skin. He paused, thinking about what Craig would do if he saw fresh cuts.

 _You can come up with excuses later. Just do it! You need the relief! You need it! You deserve it!_

Stan felt hot tears slide down his face as he pushed the metal into his skin, dragging it across his thighs. He felt the familiar pain and the numbness. He was addicted to the pain and the numbing.

Dark red beads of blood slid down his leg and dripped off his thigh from several fresh cuts Stan has inflicted. Tears began to drip onto his thighs making red watercolor on his skin.

"I'm sorry, Craig…you deserve…someone better…" Stan whispered between sobs. He dropped the already injured left leg and pulled up his right leg, dragging the blade down his thigh once again. Stan continued to cry and cut until he decided enough was enough. He dropped his arm and loosened his hold onto the red razor blade, dropping onto the floor. Stan looked down at his legs and his eyes began to droop. He didn't even hear the water turn off or the bathroom door opening.

Craig left the steaming bathroom shirtless, rubbing a towel over his head. He tossed the towel onto the floor and looked into the living room. He walked towards the back of the couch when he noticed Stan wasn't sitting there anymore, but his eyes widened in horror when he saw Stan crying with blood stained legs. He quickly ran towards Stan and hunched down to his level.

"Holy shit! Stan what the fuck did you-" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the bloody razor blade. He couldn't believe what was happening. Why? Why did he cut himself?

"Stan, why did you cut yourself?" Craig asked in a panic, lifting Stan's face. Stan began to bawl when he saw Craig's face. Craig cursed under his breath and lifted Stan up bridal style, carrying him to the tub. He placed Stan in the bath tub and worked to take his briefs off a long with his shirt. He quickly turned the warm water on before grapping cleaning supplies from underneath the sink. Stan started to calm down a little, although still crying. He began wiping away his tears as the water filled the tub. Craig turned around and looked at the tub in horror. There was blood all over the edge of the bathtub and the water was turning red. It looked like a murder scene. How much blood was coming out of Stan's legs?

Once the tub was filled just enough, Craig turned off the water and grabbed a wash cloth before kneeling beside the tub. He wet the cloth and began patting Stan's wounds.

"Craig…I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this." Stan said, still sniffling. Craig looked up at Stan before going back to cleaning his poor legs.

"What do you mean by 'you don't deserve this'?" Craig asked, wringing out the wet wash cloth. He was going to have to empty the tub and fill it with fresh water. Good thing his family has a huge hot water tank.

"You deserve someone who's…happy." Craig felt his heart sink even more at those words. Even with Craig, Stan isn't happy?

"You're not happy even with me?" Craig blurted out. He immediately regretted saying that as Stan began to cry again.

"No I AM happy with you! I'm just saying you deserve someone who doesn't have all these scars." Stan spoke. Wiping more tears away. "My scars are disgusting. I'm disgusting." Craig squeezed the cloth and forced Stan to look at him.

"No, Stan. You're NOT disgusting. Your scars aren't either. Stan, There's not one part of your body or your being that is disgusting. I wouldn't even have such strong feeling for you if I thought otherwise." Craig spoke. Stan's eyes were red and puffy from the crying, but they were wide as if he wasn't expecting to hear what he had just heard.

"Stan, I love you." Craig said, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Stan's petal like ones. Stan sighed into the kiss. Craig gave him a few more soft and gentle kisses before slowly pulling away.

"Don't you ever think you're disgusting, Stan. You just need to know what happiness is." Craig said before looking down at the water. It was completely red but his thighs weren't bleeding as bad anymore. Thank God, he doesn't need stitches.

"I need to change the water though." Craig said, pulling up the plug to let the water drain. Stan looked down at his mutilated legs, softly running his fingertips over his scares and newly made wounds.

"You love me?" Stan asked out of the blue. Craig glanced up at Stan with eyebrows furrowed.

"Duh." He said with his straight face. Stan grinned and laughed a little at Craig's reaction to the question. It was so blunt and straight faced but so like Craig.

Craig smiled when he watched Stan giggle. He never knew why he loved seeing Stan smile so much but now he knows. Stan Marsh doesn't smile as much as he used to.

Craig began to fill the bath tub up with fresh water and continued to clean his legs. He grabbed the shampoo and put a little in his hands before he smothered Stan's head with the soap. Stan grunted in frustration.

"I can do that, you know." Stan said, trying to do it himself. Craig pushed his hands away.

"No. You just sit there." Craig demanded. Stan rolled his eyes and looked down at his thighs again. The water had a very very light pink tint to it, but nothing to be worried about. Stan lent forward and pushed the nob in to turn the water off. Once he sat back again, Craig covered Stan's eyes as he dumped the cup of water over his soap lathered black hair. The feeling of warm water running down his spine felt really good against Stan's skin. He shuddered at the feeling. Then he began to remember the feeling of Craig's warm breath against his neck.

 _Oh god…._

Stan slapped himself internally. The last thing he needs is a boner while Craig is taking care of him. He watched Craig reach for the body wash and lather the wash cloth with it. He began washing Stan's arms and lifted them up to wash his arm pits, tickling him. Stan giggled a little before he turned to Craig with a somewhat serious face.

"Craig, seriously I can wash myself." Craig didn't pay any attention to him as he washed his legs gently. Stan winced slightly and decided it was completely useless. Just let Craig do what Craig wants.

After Stan's bath, Craig unplugged the bath tub and wrapped Stan's arms around his neck and put his arms underneath his legs, lifting him up bridal style again before placing him on the toilet seat. He grabbed a towel from the cupboard and gently dried Stan's hair. He then began drying his body and moved down to the most important part which was his legs. He dabbed his legs dry and grabbed the wash cloth from earlier, giving it a little rubbing alcohol. He looked up at Stan with a sympathetic look.

"This is going to sting a little." Craig warned. Stan nodded in approval before wincing once Craig began dabbing his leg. He did the same with the other leg and wrapped both thighs with bandage. Once he wrapped his legs he grabbed a clean pair of Stan's boxer briefs. He was too tired to find a shirt for him so he just grabbed the shirt he himself was going to wear. Stan stood up, wobbling a little while Craig helped him into his boxers. Craig opened up the large t shirt and looked down at Stan.

"Lift your arms up." He commanded. Stan complied, lifting his arms up as Craig slid the shirt over Stan's head and his arms went through the holes. Stan didn't need to do much adjusting as the shirt was already big enough, going down to the middle of his thighs. Stan ruffled his still damp hair with his hands, leading the way out of the bathroom.

Stan's eyebrows furrowed as he began to feel dizzy before his vision went dark and he toppled over. Craig quickly caught him and lied him down on the floor.

"Stan? Hey Stan! Stan! Wake up!" Craig hollered. Stan's eyes opened a little and Craig sighed with relief. Stan being emotionally exhausted on top of getting out of a hot bath is obviously what made him pass out. Stan looked up at Craig confused before he put a hand to his forehead.

"I'm taking you to bed." Craig said. Stan groaned, not comprehending what happened.

"What happened?" Stan asked. Craig shushed him, picking him up bridal style again. It's pretty easy to pick him considering how fucking light Stan is. He's got to be no more than 115lbs.

"You just passed out. It's okay though, I'll take you to bed. You're probably really tired and emotionally exhausted, huh?" Craig said, kicking his bedroom door open. Stan hummed in response while Craig lied Stan down in his bed, pulling the covers up over Stan. He planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be right back." Craig said, leaving the room. He grabbed Stan's shirt and boxers in the bathroom and moved into the living room where his jeans were. Once he picked up his jeans, his eyes landed on that bloody razor blade. What should he do with it? Hide it? Throw it away? He knows Stan is addicted to cutting, so he needs to treat it as such. He leant down and grabbed the blade. If he hides it, Stan is bound to find it. If he throws it away….

"No, I'm throwing it out." Craig whispered. For the time being, he put the razor blade in his school bag. That's last place Stan will look before Craig finds a dumpster or something.

He threw Stan's clothes in the laundry room before going back into the room. He shut the door softly and could here Stan's soft breathing.

 _Good. He's asleep._

Craig approached the bed, looking down at Stan's soft pale face. Stan is absolutely beautiful with his long lashes and soft pink lips. Even the way the moon light aluminates his pale skin, which is as white as the purest snow. Craig smiled as he pulled up the sheets and comforter, sliding in next to Stan and wrapping his arms around Stan's waist protectively. He planted a kiss against his temple before sleep took him over.

He never wants to let him go.

 **xXx**

 **Hey guys! Sorry for such a long delay! I've been really busy. ^^'**

 **One more chapter to go! Thank you guys for the love and support!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


	12. Craig Tucker

I set the last box before shutting the trunk of my car and heading towards our new apartment. I set the box down on the floor with the others before standing up straight, feeling a few pops go up my back. I looked into the kitchen, seeing Stan grab a glasses and plates from the box. I smiled when Stan tried to put some plates up on a higher shelf, stretching to the best of his ability. I walked into the kitchen and laughed.

"Need some help?" I said, standing directly behind him. I love how tiny Stan is. It's adorable every time he tries to reach something. Me being 6'2 I always have to help him out with the little things.

Stan turned and looked up at me with a frustrated look before I grabbed the plates from his hands and putting them up on the top shelf.

"I could've done that myself you know." Stan spoke, turning around back to the box that held the rest of the glasses and plates. I chuckled at Stan's frustration, wrapping my arms around his small waste and pulling him into me before giving him a quick peck on the cheek and returning to the other boxes. I carried the box labeled "bedroom" into the…well you know, bedroom. I set it on the bed and opened it up. I put all of our annoying little trinkets on the shelves I had hung up. I collect a lot of video game stuff, such as amiibos and merchandise of different kinds. Hell, I've never thrown out any of my console boxes. Stan, however, has a weird obsession with Japanese soda bottles. He has fifteen of them sitting on the small wall-mounted book shelf a long with figures of different anime characters such as Kuroko's Basketball, Hetalia, Attack On Titan, Tokyo Ghoul and so on.

We took our time putting everything away before we plopped on the couch, exhausted. I propped my feet on the coffee table with my arms stretched on the back of the couch. I looked over at Stan who was about to fall asleep. I smiled and looked back up at the ceiling. We've been waiting for this for a long time. I'm away from my asshole dad and Stan won't get hurt anymore.

Oh yeah, you're all still wondering what happened.

Well, Shelly didn't serve as much time in prison as she was supposed to. The so called "justice system" didn't take Stan's abuse seriously because she's his sister. All she served was two months in prison, which is bullshit. So while she was serving time, Stan and I decided we should get our own place close to college. Stan is going for journalism and I'm going for art, that way I can do what I've always wanted to do which is tattooing.

We don't have much food in the fridge or a whole lot of money in the bank, but it's definitely worth it. Stan's not getting thrown down stairs, and I'm not locked in the basement and kept hidden from the rest of my family. Life is good, and it's even better knowing I get to spend it with the person who cares about me more than anyone else I've ever met.

I looked over at Stan a smiled again. He fell asleep. I stood up and picked him up bridal style, carrying him into our bedroom. Stan must be pretty exhausted after everything he's been through, but he doesn't have to worry about a thing anymore.

I pulled the covers over Stan and gave him a kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. I sat down at the little round wooden table in our kitchen area to look over the phone bills that were due in a few weeks when I noticed a letter from my parents. I raised my eyebrow and debated on whether or not I should open it. No. I'm not going to. Fuck them. They ruined the remainder of my childhood and now I bet they want me to feel sorry for them. They called me ever name in the fucking book.

Screw up.

Asshole.

Idiot.

And I'll never forget what my so called _father_ told me.

 _You're not my son, and you'll never be my son._

I crumpled up the letter and threw it in the trash. Whatever. I don't need them. I proved to them that I don't need them. Stan is all I need and if they don't like that, then there's no reason they need to be a part of my life anymore. But I can tell that this isn't the end. My parents wouldn't allow that.

Our lives only _just_ begun.

 **xXx**

 **Dun dun DUUUUUNNNNN! It's NOT the end! I decided to make a sequel to Two Faces, and this time, it'll be Craig's story!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you all for the support!**

 **xoxo**

 **[:everlasting-luv:]**


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